But
they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up
with wings as eagles; they shall run and not be weary; and they shall walk, and
not faint.
-Isaiah
40:31
~
On the Fourth of
July I ran in my first road race. I ran in the Freedom Run 5K, held in Provo, Utah.
This has been the
year of trying new things. I have been a physical education teacher (see
previous post). In conjunction with teaching that class, Shawn and I started a
five day a week aerobic workout regimen.
That was a first for both of us.
And though we decided to switch to walking after about a month and a
half, it got me thinking.
If I could
physically do the aerobic workouts, perhaps I could start running. Although I have rheumatoid arthritis it is under very good control right now. But because of my diagnosis I have avoided strenuous exercise.
Could I even do it?
The only way to
know was to try.
Thankfully, a few of my
friends here in Chapel Hill had blazed the trail.
(Shout out to Kim Price, Chantel Nelson and Margie Hamberlin). Margie has been running for years, but Kim and Chantel started more recently. I have
watched them go from not running at all to competing in 10K’s. When I asked for advice on how to start they were more
than happy to help out. Chantel Nelson pointing me to a training
program called “
The
Couch-to-5K Running Plan. ” Now I had a training plan. Not wanting to run alone, I invited my husband to join me—he was
willing, ready, but like me, not completely convinced he was able to run.
Our training
program basically starts you off with baby steps. Instead of trying to run 3.1
miles the first day—and failing miserably, we started with a sixty second run,
walking for ninety seconds, then repeating the same run/walk intervals for a total
of twenty minutes. Over the course of eight weeks, we would gradually increase
the run to walk ratio until we could run 3.1 miles straight.
That was the plan.
Things haven't exactly worked out according to our original timetable, but we are making progress. Here are some
things I have learned these past weeks.
Running is
harder than I thought it would be, but hard work is its own
reward.
Running is
definitely harder than walking because running required leaping off the ground with each
stride—becoming momentarily airborne. Even at my snail-like pace I end each run exhausted. On our first training day
after having run a grand total of eight minutes I had sweat literally dripping off of
me. And the payoff seemed far away. There has been no runner’s high—just
muscle strain and feeling out of breath. I
am hoping that this mythical runners high actually materializes in the future,
though I imagine I will need to get past the “I think I am going to die”
feeling.
But I have found the sweat and the heavy breathing to be worth it, as slowly I have increased the time I could run without stopping. By focusing on
the value of work instead of an immediate reward, I feel like I am better able
to deal with the difficulties I experience in life. I don’t feel cheated or mad if things don’t
go my way right now as long as I have tried my best and worked hard. I believe that over time
the benefits of this hard work will accrue naturally, regardless of any short term pain.
Comparing my
running ability to others isn’t very helpful.
We decided to start training on the Pumpkin Trail, a local off-road trail through the Carolina North forest--my reasoning being that our pathetic running ability
would be hidden from the general public—plus it was much cooler being in the
shade. It turns out to be a popular running trail. Most days we would be passed
by other runners—packs of lean shirtless young men who seemingly ran without
effort—like gazelles; or the older more seasoned couples who would lap us on
occasion. In comparison, we ran with all the grace and effort of hippos on dry
ground.
Fortunately, I haven’t let myself dwell on how bad we are in comparison. My job as I see it is to
do my best and to keep training. I know
that eventually we will get better, be able to run farther and faster. But that
will come only after a lot of work. Thinking I should be able to run like
someone who has been training for years would be setting myself up for
defeat.
I think we often
want to feel like we should have instant success. We see successful people all
around us making very difficult things look effortless. What we don’t see is
the hours and hours that person has put into becoming great at something. I
can’t remember where I heard this, but it was from an author who was giving advise to new writers. He said it was important not to compare ourselves to seasoned writers who have been honing their
craft for years. In addition, he said that since our appreciation for great writing
exceeds our ability to produce it at first, it’s easy to get disappointed and quit because we know our work can’t
compete. Instead, we need to remain patient with ourselves. With time and hard work we will get there.
Ignoring problems
doesn’t make them go away.
Our training went
fairly well for the first five weeks. But then we interrupted it with a week at
WDW for a family vacation. That was expected. What I didn’t anticipate was
injuring my left heel—on my very first twenty minute training run. It hurt so bad I had difficulty walking on
it. Because if hurt so much, I couldn’t
run. For a week.
I didn't know how I had injured my foot. One moment I was running fine, the next, my heel felt like I had a deep bruise on it. I thought about simply resting my foot and resume running after it felt better and hope it wouldn't happen again. But I figured, without knowing the cause, the chances of it reoccurring were fairly high. So, I began looking for answers.
I asked my
running friends if they had had similar issues.
Chantel Nelson asked to look at my shoes. She correctly pointed out that
they were worn out and that they could be responsible for my injury. I did an online search for heel pain and
self-diagnosed my injury (pulled Achilles tendon) and started doing more stretches, iced my foot and
began taking Aleve. I went to a
running store to have my gait evaluated to rule out heel striking as a cause (A
heel strike is when you run and land heel first). I bought new shoes and
inserts for better arch support. My foot feels better, thankfully. If it hadn’t
felt better after another week I was going to make an appointment with a
podiatrist.
Ignoring problems
do not make them go away. We need to
understand what is causing a problem before we can hope to find a solution.
Sometimes the causes of our problems are complicated. Sometimes they are
remarkably simple. But refusing to look
at the root causes will not change anything. If I had not begun an
investigation into how I hurt my foot, even if I rested my foot until it no
longer hurt, the moment I started running again in my old shoes I would have
reinjured my foot. Most of the problems
we face in life cannot be solved as easily as buying a new pair of shoes. But
they cannot be solved at all if we do not have the courage to look.
One last thought
on this subject—it is not helpful to blame ourselves once we have found the
cause. I wasted no time berating myself
for not checking my shoes or tracking their mileage like more experienced
runners do. I didn’t know I needed to do that.
Now I do. Beating myself up
wouldn’t help my foot get better any faster. And only by changing my shoes will
I prevent future injuries. Change don't blame.
The Freedom
Run.
Despite not
finishing the training program because of my foot injury I decided to enter the
Freedom Run anyway. My goal was to run the first twenty-five minutes without
stopping (the time I was at in my training program) and to finish under
forty-five minutes. I estimated my pace
to be at around thirteen minutes per mile and added in five minutes of walking
time. That was my goal.
Somewhat
surprisingly, I spent the night before the race filled with nervous
energy. Part of my nervousness was
excitement. I was really going to run in a race. I was in my home town. It would be
Independence Day. My daughter would be there cheering me on--that meant a lot to me and I wanted to do well.
Part of my nervousness came from doubt and fear. I
worried whether I could even finish the race. My right hamstring was tight and
I had never run 3.1 miles before and had only run 25 minutes once.
The nervousness
did not leave me in the morning. I almost couldn’t eat, it was that bad.
I managed to choke down a couple of small
energy bars and drink some water.
I got
changed into my running clothes, woke up my daughter and we headed to BYU
campus by 6:15 am.
We parked at the law
school parking lot, about halfway between the 5K starting line and the finish
line at Kiwanis Park.
It was fun to be
back on campus and near the law school—my former stomping grounds. I was still
nervous.
Thankfully, it
was a beautiful morning. There was a slight breeze. The sky a perfect shade a
blue and the mountains still shaded us from the direct heat of the sun. Hot air
balloons floated across the sky overhead.
Perfect running weather.
As we headed for the start line, we were joined by all sorts of people. There were whole
families, senior citizens, moms with strollers, dads with kids. There
was every body type imaginable—tall and thin, short and stout, pudgy and
trim—over three thousand people in total. Some wore costumes—I saw tutus and
superheroes.
Some people had tattoos and
body piercings.
There was even one
adorable elderly couple running together. As we gathered at the starting line
the collective energy was incredible.
(Some of my
fellow runners)
And despite our
differences we all had one thing in common—we were all running the same race.
I can now say
that it is definitely easier to run with a huge group of people then by
yourself. Also, it helps to have the
people on the sidelines shouting encouragement. I even high-fived a bystander
who held out her hand to the runners.
Also, it helps to have mile markers and a running watch—I could check
how well I was doing. The first mile
marker seemed the farthest one, the third one the shortest. I don’t know why that is.
Even though I
started towards the back of the pack, almost three minutes behind the
professional runners who lined up at the starting line, I was passed by a lot
of runners. Like our first days running on the pumpkin trail, some of my fellow
runners appeared to run with ease. I ran the best I could, passing
a few people who were going even slower than myself.
My first goal was
to run without stopping for the first twenty-five minutes. I accomplished this goal, running to the
second water station which was at the second mile marker. I grabbed a cup of water from a volunteer and
walked along the race course while I sipped the water. A minute later I began running again. The final stretch of the course went up a long
hill. I made it six blocks before needing to take a walking break. One block later I reached the turn towards
the park and ran for home.
There was a huge
crowd gathered at the finish line. People were shouting out to us to keep
going. I searched the crowd for my daughter and found her.
She took this picture.
(Approaching the Finish Line)
I crossed the
line at 40:44.7, nearly five minutes better than my goal. (You can see my
complete results below). I was
exhausted, sweaty, out of breath and happy.
Very happy.
And while those runners
who actually won the race deserve all the prize money and the accolades for
their accomplishments (The first place runner came in at just over sixteen
minutes. That is incredible!) I felt like I had won as well. And so did
everyone who entered and ran or walked or ran/walked all the way to the end.
My husband and I
will continue to train, to push ourselves past our current limits in endurance
until we can run a 5K without stopping.
Who knows what our goal will be after that. Maybe a 10K? Maybe a half
marathon?
I cannot imagine being able to
run a full marathon just yet. I do know that
however long my body will cooperate with me, I will continue to run.
That is what life is, after all—one lifelong,
day after day, endurance race.
And we are all in
it together.
(Here are my
official results)
