Series Finale

I hope that all of my readers have realized how much I love metaphors. If not, please feel free to re-read any of my past posts and try to relate lessons learned in running to lessons in life (except for the A Runner's Story posts--those were just stories).

It's been almost two years since I began this blog with the intent of not only passing along my thoughts and experiences related to the sport I love, but also of sharing my life lessons, which God inspired via running. It's now time to end this series of writings in hopes of starting another one soon (I have no idea what else I would write about. Any suggestions?).

My last confession is this: while running made for a good metaphor for relationships--the ups and downs, the work, the effort, the pains and joys, the frustrations and victories--it failed in one major aspect. Running does not provide a two-way road for communication with its runners; it does not give feedback.

What is a relationship without communication? Arguments, affection, compromise, camaraderie,   fights, forgiveness, sharing emotions and encouragement.
The Bible provides countless examples of friendships, but also gives good advice on how to be a good friend. Take these, for example:

"Since God chose you to be the holy people he loves, you must clothe yourselves with tenderhearted mercy, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience. Make allowance for each others' faults, and forgive anyone who offends you. Remember, the Lord forgave you, so you must forgive others. Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds us all together in perfect harmony. And let the peace that comes from Christ rule in your hearts..."--Colossians 3: 12-15

"There are 'friends' who destroy each other, but a real friend sticks closer than a brother."--Proverbs 18:24

"As iron sharpens iron, so a friend sharpens a friend."--Proverbs 27:17

In the literal sense, Running has not been a "friend" to me. Although, it has introduced and inspired some amazing friendships within my life thus far. In fact, I'm marrying one of my best friends who also shares a passion for running. If I can't call Running a true friend, I'm happy to give it some credit for certain relationships I've enjoyed throughout the years--acquaintances, seasonal friends, lifetime friends, and future friends.

It's been real. Thanks for reading. I'm out.

The only motivation that works...in my opinion

Today I asked for motivation via Facebook. While I appreciate the few attempts made, in the end, the only person who could get my butt off the couch was . . . me.

I think we all do this from time to time, maybe even more often than not. We rely on others to get us going. Without positive affirmations from our family and friends, we feel helpless and alone. Our excuse for not achieving goals, big or small, is that we "just don't feel motivated."

I'm not saying it's bad to lean on encouragement from others every once in a while; sometimes you really do just need a nudge or even a violent shove. But just like drugs, a person can learn to depend on external motivation, blaming his/her failures on a lack of support from those he/she thinks should be giving it.

My eyes were opened today. I had several excuses for not working out, but I really wanted to; I also really didn't want to. I was so lazy that I asked for motivation . . . on Facebook!! And even though some tried to encourage me (and some added a haha at the end of theirs--thanks), I still resisted. At about 4:30 this afternoon, I sat down on my couch, still kind of full from a late lunch, still sleepy from working odd hours, and still feeling a little blah. I had given up on the idea of working out, running, doing anything physical, when I began to think about my goals: build speed, construct abs, stay in shape, tone arms and legs, redeem myself for slacking in the Insanity program, and just run because I love it. That was it. I tore myself from the couch , laced up (not really, I wore my Vibrams, or 5-finger shoes), grabbed my iPod, invited a friend, then uninvited her for fear that if I waited too long I would change my mind, and left the apartment.

After my workout, as I sit here, typing, I'm thinking about how much I'm going to love and hate myself tomorrow when my calves are tight, quads and butt are screaming, arms are like Jello, and abs are tender.

However, if the weathermen are correct, I will be blessed with a run in the rain tomorrow. And I can't wait.

But back to the lesson--

I chose to rely on other people today, as I have before. And I had hoped that someone would offer some words of wisdom or inspiration that would motivate me to do what I already wanted to do. The fact is, though, that there was nothing anyone could have said to me that would motivate me enough to actually start moving. That kind of motivation lies within the heart and takes the form of desire. Words of encouragement just lift our hearts--which is great!--so don't stop encouraging each other. Just remember that you are the only one who can make you do anything.


Thanks for all the encouragement. Keep it coming, and I'll try to return the favor.

A Runner's Story #6: Molly stole my compliment.

Senior year of high school, my coach decided to take the team to a trail we hadn't trained on. We went to White Rock Lake and ran an out-and-back along the perimeter. The newbies, of course, ran less than the more experienced runners, and since I was the only senior, I had the farthest to run.

A general goal for this type of workout is to run a negative split. This means the second half of the run, after the turn-around, is faster. But I had even more motivation on this particular run. As I was headed back to the bus, picking up the pace, a couple of (attractive) guys fell in line behind me, apparently just starting their work out at a relaxed pace through which they could carry on a conversation. Even at this "relaxed" pace, I was hammering out the back half of my run.

I was tired, sweat dripping from the ear lobes, arms swinging, knees leading the way. In just a few minutes, I would be done for the day. To feed my pride, I made it goal not to let these guys pass (not that it mattered, but I was working my ass off, and they were just talking away, keeping up like it was nothing). They had no idea how much they were pushing me, helping me.

I could finally see the bus (I think my coach nicknamed it the Yellow Dog). I opened my strides and swung my arms a little wider, chest out, head up.

I accomplished two goals that day: a negative split and ahead of those guys. As I walked toward my team, who patiently awaited my return, one of the guys shouted out to me as he and his buddy ran by, "Hey, good run!" Before I could gather enough breath to respond, Molly, an indescribable teammate, with a big smile and a wave, yelled back, "Thanks!"

...

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't just a little bitter about Molly stealing my compliment, but the pride washed off as I drenched myself in water.



But still, that was my compliment, not hers.

Boo hoo

The past two mornings of my life have been filled with pain and shame--and this is the kind of pain I don't like. I began Insanity to assist me in speed training and to try something new, and in doing so, had to throw my pride right out the window, drive over it, drag it through the mud...you get the picture.

I've mentioned in a past post that with running came some sacrifices, the loss of other athletic abilities as my body grew accustomed to repetitive motion. Swing the arms, lift the legs, hundreds to thousands of times per run.

Insanity requires pushing the heart rate to the max (safely) within just a few moments, holding it for minutes at a time, bringing it back down, building it back up, and so forth. It requires speed and agility, neither of which I possess. It also requires lots of motivation, which I apparently dropped during the warm up. I spent entire circuits sitting on the couch, discouraged, almost content. Only now, as I type these words, am I reminded of my own motto--make it hurt.

I'm not sure any amount of encouragement could motivate me enough to stick it out through an entire workout of Insanity, but you could try.

Gotta run. 

DNF

DNF—something no runner wants on his/her record. Did Not Finish. It’s one thing to start a workout and decide not to finish because of injury, etc., but when you don’t finish a race you’ve been training for, that’s embarrassing. Not only do you receive unwanted sympathy (“there will be other races,” and “at least you made it this far! [thumbs up]”), but those three excruciating letters go online for the whole world to see, assuming EVERYONE wants to know how you did.

I’m not sure my experience today was as humbling as it was supposed to be, but I sure lost some pride. The 2013 Dallas Rock ‘n’ Roll Half Marathon gets to claim my first (and hopefully last) DNF. Sadly enough, quitting half way through the race was not my biggest challenge. Besides trying to trudge through the pain (recurring injury), I mostly struggled with worthless pride. My ego struggled with the fact that I could easily walk across the finish line; I simply didn’t care to if I couldn’t PR (set a personal record).  

Furthermore, I had to wait at a med station on the side of the course for a saddle wagon to retrieve my sorry self, icing my injury, watching other runners continue on, listening to empty words of encouragement from people who assumed I was a beginner (which hurt my pride the most), and then walked across the course, without so much as a limp, to a man dressed in a long black pea-coat with a walkie-talkie who drove me and one other runner to the finish line. 

Pride

On a lighter note, the course was enjoyable. Various bands were stationed along the course, and my friends and I started the race at a decent pace. Starting in Corral One meant no need to dodge walkers or dogs or joggers and being exhausted by mile three as a result. 

I am moving on to the next goal: improving speed. I know I said this was the next goal after the marathon, but the half changed my plans. If you know of any good 5ks this summer, feel free to comment below. 

Time to make some different muscles hurt!

Tough Questions

The White Gazelle asked me what my favorite running memory is--but how do I answer that?
That's like asking someone what his/her favorite song is; there are too many to choose from, too many genres, generations, voices, topics, etc. I've been running for a decade and have acquired hundreds of pleasant memories.

Seventh grade introduced me to running.
Eighth grade is when I fell in love with it.
Ninth grade brought me my first injury, which I overcame and advanced to the varsity level.
Tenth grade introduced me to The White Gazelle.
I met my first burn-out in eleventh.
I peaked and accomplished my proudest moment in twelfth.
Freshman year of college, running saved my life (figuratively speaking).
I began developing my friendship with teammate Kat Grillo my sophomore year.
Junior year, my relationship with the sport was tested, and running and I decided to just be friends.
This year I have spent eighteen weeks training for a marathon with a great friend, one of my favorite accomplishments, and have found someone else with whom I can share my passion.

These are only the most prominent major events that came with a lifestyle that seems to have chosen me, not the other way around. But never fear, more running experiences will be shared in the near future; for instance, I love to tell the Snot-Rocket Story. But I'll let you wonder about that one a little bit.


Shayna asked me about my favorite part of the Disney Marathon I ran with Kat in January. That's a tough question, too. If you're asking about the entire marathon experience, I can honestly say that I've never enjoyed training for any race more than I enjoyed training for my first 26.2. As for the race itself, I suppose my favorite part was running through Magic Kingdom. We reached the park around sunrise, passed the castle, and were suddenly surrounded by Disney characters, scenes from movies, spectators cheering for us as if they knew us, and, of course, serenaded with Disney songs.

I really enjoy the comments and questions. Keep them coming, especially since I've struggled to maintain the motivation to put my thoughts down on paper, or a screen...

Rock 'n' Roll half marathon this Sunday in Dallas! Wish us well.

FIRST MARATHON!!!!!!

Mickey Mouse
Donald Duck
Goofy
Genie
Mulan
Mushu
The Fairy God Mother
Prince Charming
Sulley and Mike
Scar
Pirates of the Caribbean
Jiminy Cricket
Lumiere
Lightning McQueen and Mater
The Chipmunks
Tinker Bell
Rafiki
Wreck It Ralph
Tigger

And these are just the ones I recall...

My first marathon was painful, but it's over. The day after was painful too, but that's over. Disney's Marathon Weekend is difficult to sum up in a few words--but I'll try: the largest expo I've experienced took place at Walt Disney's Wide World of Sports Complex. Kat and I sampled our first-ever gel/goo (an energy boost that would later aid one of us and not the other), and we fell in love with Cabot Cheese, making a second round just to sneak another sample.

After an adventurous four-mile walk, bedtime came at 8p.m. We awoke at 2:30 a.m. to begin our magical day. At 6:10 a.m., fireworks signaled our starting corral's start. For miles, we just enjoyed the cool breeze, characters along the course, and people-watching (there were a lot of people to watch). After the sun came up, I hit my ever-infuriating wall, but I stuck with Kat, knowing she would neither leave me behind nor let me give in just yet.

Half way to the finish meant I was thinking, " Holy @#$% we have to do all that again." But then it got easier, and easier, for me anyway. I say that because Kat hit her wall around mile fourteen. She trudged through until what we feared would happen happened. One thing athletes, especially runners in my opinion, have to take into consideration is climate change. Whether from one season to the next or one state to another, Climate has the authority to say, "I don't care that you trained for eighteen weeks. Here's a cup of dehydration, light-headedness, and, oh yes, an upset stomach. Enjoy." We knew this was a possibility from the start, but how could we have trained for it? We live in the center of Texas on college student budgets. We had to take our chances. So we walked for a bit. After about sixteen and a half miles, the rest of our run can be summed up as walking/jogging intervals, until we were both in enough pain that walking was more than acceptable.  But we crossed the finish line, hand in hand. BOOM!

Were we a little disappointed? Of course. But humility is an anchor. So we reminded ourselves that this was never really about the run--it was about the experience, which was awesome and something never to be forgotten. We can run 26.2 miles anytime in our own hometowns, or college town, or wherever. In fact, that is exactly what we have added to our agenda. In a few short weeks, we'll join another running buddy for a chance to redeem ourselves. Two weeks later, we'll cheer him on, from the sidelines, with hot chocolate and a delicious breakfast, as he conquers 32+ miles. Sucker.



Leave comments! Ask Questions! I've been less motivated to write in the past couple of months, and I always appreciate your input and encouragement anyway.