In the spring of 1998 I had grown weary of nursing a broken heart. I had spent months wallowing, and I was sick and tired of myself . . . and sick and tired of sitting.
It had been 10 years since I had run regularly, but on May 18th, 1998, I stepped out my back door in Kellogg, walked down the little hill behind my house, and began to run down Mission Avenue. I knew I wouldn't make it far, but my goal was to try to gauge when I was half done, and then turn around and return home--without stopping. (I know I could still locate that turn-around spot within just a few yards--somewhere just past McDonald's on Cameron.) It turned out to be a pretty good guess, at least for someone like me, who takes a certain pleasure in pushing herself. About a quarter mile from home this run became quite painful, as I developed an intense side ache. I have always been determined to run through side aches, no matter how painful, and so I made it to my self-appointed finish line, at the foot of my alley. And a runner was born.
I had been through periods of running before, but this time was different. This time it was the first step on the road to recovery. It was the physical action I needed to begin my emotional and spiritual healing. In the past, I always felt like I needed a running partner. This was the year I discovered the joy of the solitary run.
I also discovered that no matter how sedentary I have been, I can step out my door and experience the joy (and the delicious pain) of running.
It had been 10 years since I had run regularly, but on May 18th, 1998, I stepped out my back door in Kellogg, walked down the little hill behind my house, and began to run down Mission Avenue. I knew I wouldn't make it far, but my goal was to try to gauge when I was half done, and then turn around and return home--without stopping. (I know I could still locate that turn-around spot within just a few yards--somewhere just past McDonald's on Cameron.) It turned out to be a pretty good guess, at least for someone like me, who takes a certain pleasure in pushing herself. About a quarter mile from home this run became quite painful, as I developed an intense side ache. I have always been determined to run through side aches, no matter how painful, and so I made it to my self-appointed finish line, at the foot of my alley. And a runner was born.
I had been through periods of running before, but this time was different. This time it was the first step on the road to recovery. It was the physical action I needed to begin my emotional and spiritual healing. In the past, I always felt like I needed a running partner. This was the year I discovered the joy of the solitary run.
I also discovered that no matter how sedentary I have been, I can step out my door and experience the joy (and the delicious pain) of running.
I wish I could understand (and embrace) that "delicious pain." Alas, I cannot, and so I stick to Turbofire workouts in my basement. :)
ReplyDeleteamy faye
Thanks for quoting back that "delicious pain" to me. I'm liking that. I used to think that anyone who gave running a good try would love it like I do, but I have realized that is not the case. It just may be some specialized form of insanity!
ReplyDeleteSedentary? Don't you mean stationary?
ReplyDeleteI totally thought about you when I wrote that, Mac! Yes, of course, stationary!
ReplyDeleteI've loved reading your posts! In fact, I've missed them the past couple days. :)
ReplyDelete