I can’t remember a time when I didn’t run. Varsity track gave me the coveted high school letter. In college, I’d head out to the nearby lake and run the 5 mile track around it.
I’ve run on the treadmill, down country roads rarely travelled by cars, along busy urban sidewalks, across paved park pathways and up trails.
I’ve run in the early morning as the sun was waking up and in the pitch black dark with a headlamp showing me the way.
I’ve run during a frigid Wisconsin winter night and through a scalding South Carolina summer day.
I’ve run with family, friends, my dog and alone.
I’ve run listening to music, podcasts and my own breathing.
I’ve run following couch to marathon plans, interval apps, my own make shift schedule and with no plan or goal at all.
I’ve worn high tech clothes and cute accessories only to be worn while running.
I’ve run four half marathons all in the 2:21-2:23 time frame and just for fun.
And through it all I can honestly say….
….that I stink at running.
It isn’t really the physical part that gets me. I’m no Olympic level runner and I tend to trudge more than fly, but my times are at least respectable and I run way more than I walk.
It is the mental game that kills me. I never zone out. I never enjoy it. I’m trudging along and all my mind does is go on and on about how I can’t breathe, how I can’t take another step, how I’m too slow. It is defeatist and it doesn’t matter if I run a mile or 5. It is the same rhetoric in my brain.
So I am taking a break. I run for exercise and health. Riding is my stress relief. I’m joining the local YMCA and I am going to dabble in the various classes that they offer: spin to yoga to cardio dance to weights to swimming. I’m going to bounce around until I find something that I can do and mostly enjoy.
Then, once I am in better shape, I am going to try running again. See if it doesn’t fit back in in a healthier manner. We will see.