As I have stated before, I've been running cross country and track since the seventh grade. Over the years, the sport has become more than just a sport; it's a relationship. I've been committed, in love with what I do, willing to make sacrifices, and have faced challenges within the relationship that have been emotionally and physically draining.
The ultimate challenge came this morning. I resigned from the cross country team at my school. I lost the passion I possessed for 8 years. I've been in denial about this for some time, trying to convince myself that certain changes would rekindle the flame. But this weekend opened my eyes and forced me to face the truth.
After stressing for weeks, feeling sick with guilt and dread the past few days, a burden has been lifted from my shoulders. Making the choice wasn't easy, and my heart and mind are weighed with grief, but I know I have made the right decision.
With endings come new beginnings (how's that for cliche?). I am not done running. Far from it actually. I am only taking a detour. I've got a new course ahead, though I don't know where it leads. I'll keep you in the know. Peace
Monday, August 29, 2011
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Against the... wind
Sophomore year of high school, track season, dust storm. I was making the turn around the 200 meter mark and was literally blown out of my lane. Of course, I weighed all but 95 lbs, but still.
I love running into the wind. I may look forward to the turn-around, but I always appreciate a little extra challenge. For one thing, I've always believed that running against the wind makes me run harder, stronger. Then, when I have the wind to my back, that same pace doesn't seem so tedious.Again, you've got to make it hurt sometimes, or you'll accomplish very little.
A fond memory: My running buddy in high school, Whitney (from here on she will be referred to as The White Gazelle), and I were good teammates. During my sophomore year and some of my junior year, we relied on our teamwork in the 3200 and 1600 meter races. For one lap, she would take the lead and give me a break from the wind. The next lap, I would take the lead (but my height did not allow her the same advantage hers allowed me). I like to believe that it made a bit of a difference.
Just so you are warned, The White Gazelle will most likely be mentioned several times in the future, as she and I have many stories on the course and track. Peace.
I love running into the wind. I may look forward to the turn-around, but I always appreciate a little extra challenge. For one thing, I've always believed that running against the wind makes me run harder, stronger. Then, when I have the wind to my back, that same pace doesn't seem so tedious.Again, you've got to make it hurt sometimes, or you'll accomplish very little.
A fond memory: My running buddy in high school, Whitney (from here on she will be referred to as The White Gazelle), and I were good teammates. During my sophomore year and some of my junior year, we relied on our teamwork in the 3200 and 1600 meter races. For one lap, she would take the lead and give me a break from the wind. The next lap, I would take the lead (but my height did not allow her the same advantage hers allowed me). I like to believe that it made a bit of a difference.
Just so you are warned, The White Gazelle will most likely be mentioned several times in the future, as she and I have many stories on the course and track. Peace.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
The Two-Day Curse
This morning I was reminded of a theory I devised back in high school. It seems that if I take one day off from running, I come back refreshed and ready to go. I can take three days off, or even four, and still be in decent shape. But if I take two days off, my next run will undoubtedly require all of my energy, and I will still run slow and need breaks. My body won't be able to produce the desired outcome.
Is it all in my head? That's a likely explanation. I find it odd that I was ever able to come up with it; I guess I found a pattern at some point. I had forgotten about it until this morning. I ran with a good friend of mine for the first time in months. From the start of the run, I felt tired and breathless. My first mile was pitiful. After about 2 1/2 miles, I needed a break. Five more minutes called for another break. I couldn't understand. Two nights ago I felt fine. Slow but fine. That's when it hit me: "two nights ago".
I've tried to delete the concept from my mind, to overcome this curse, but I'm beginning to believe that there may be some truth to it.
Is it all in my head? That's a likely explanation. I find it odd that I was ever able to come up with it; I guess I found a pattern at some point. I had forgotten about it until this morning. I ran with a good friend of mine for the first time in months. From the start of the run, I felt tired and breathless. My first mile was pitiful. After about 2 1/2 miles, I needed a break. Five more minutes called for another break. I couldn't understand. Two nights ago I felt fine. Slow but fine. That's when it hit me: "two nights ago".
I've tried to delete the concept from my mind, to overcome this curse, but I'm beginning to believe that there may be some truth to it.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Running in the rain
Who knows why I thought to write about this today? It's not like I've had any inspiration lately...hehehe. Anyway, I've always loved running in the rain. It's refreshing and makes the run interesting. Squinting, puddles, shoes squishing, soaked to the core, and when you finish, your clothes are sticking to you, and you weigh about ten pounds heavier than usual.
The last time I ran in the rain, and I mean THE RAIN, was my senior year of high school, shortly after the district track meet. I qualified for regionals in the 1600, so I was still training. This particular day, the sky let loose. What really makes this day memorable, though, is the news my teammates and I received. Regionals was to be cancelled due to the uproarious spread of the swine flu. I and the only other senior on the team were more than disappointed and upset. I was supposed to recline to the locker room for the remainder of the period, but I couldn't ignore the enormous black clouds covering the sky above the school. I ran. By the end of the run, I looked like I had run through a waterfall. It was priceless.
One other thing about running in the rain: the shower after is AMAZING. Warm water, soap to wash away the stickiness (if you live in Texas or other humid states), and the comfort of clean, dry clothes to follow. I'm waiting patiently for the next time I get to enjoy this purifying experience.
Pray for rain
The last time I ran in the rain, and I mean THE RAIN, was my senior year of high school, shortly after the district track meet. I qualified for regionals in the 1600, so I was still training. This particular day, the sky let loose. What really makes this day memorable, though, is the news my teammates and I received. Regionals was to be cancelled due to the uproarious spread of the swine flu. I and the only other senior on the team were more than disappointed and upset. I was supposed to recline to the locker room for the remainder of the period, but I couldn't ignore the enormous black clouds covering the sky above the school. I ran. By the end of the run, I looked like I had run through a waterfall. It was priceless.
One other thing about running in the rain: the shower after is AMAZING. Warm water, soap to wash away the stickiness (if you live in Texas or other humid states), and the comfort of clean, dry clothes to follow. I'm waiting patiently for the next time I get to enjoy this purifying experience.
Pray for rain
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Burn Out
Since the seventh grade, I have never not loved running (there are some exceptions to the double negative rule). I have, however, stopped enjoying it on occasion. The first time I recall feeling burned out is my junior year of high school. I dreaded track practice in the afternoons; bitterness set in; progress was negatively affected. I remember thinking to myself, "I don't want to quit, but I need a break."
That season ended with nothing to be proud of, no excitement. I took about a week off for the summer, and then relearned how to enjoy an early morning run. The next year of running would come to be my favorite and most successful (though it ended in some disappointment).
My first year of college depended on cross country and track. Having something to do in the afternoons and on weekends helped to take my mind off of homesickness. It was my worst year of running yet, but I appreciate it like a blind dog appreciates odor. Slowly, though, I've become a bit burned out again. More than a bit, actually. I want to run, and I want to win; I love a good run and a good sweat. But I am not looking forward to this upcoming season. There are other things I'd like to do instead, other priorities that I want to move to the top of the list, but can't because of a contract. It's been a struggle to stay positive about my situation, but I have to trust that, even if I don't enjoy a minute on the course or road this season, I have some purpose there. More importantly, I am trying to re-spark my passion for running. That is one reason I started this blog, to be honest. Running has become a way of life for me, as it is for many runners. I neither want to give up on it, nor continue down this road without even enjoying the smells.
Gotta run...
That season ended with nothing to be proud of, no excitement. I took about a week off for the summer, and then relearned how to enjoy an early morning run. The next year of running would come to be my favorite and most successful (though it ended in some disappointment).
My first year of college depended on cross country and track. Having something to do in the afternoons and on weekends helped to take my mind off of homesickness. It was my worst year of running yet, but I appreciate it like a blind dog appreciates odor. Slowly, though, I've become a bit burned out again. More than a bit, actually. I want to run, and I want to win; I love a good run and a good sweat. But I am not looking forward to this upcoming season. There are other things I'd like to do instead, other priorities that I want to move to the top of the list, but can't because of a contract. It's been a struggle to stay positive about my situation, but I have to trust that, even if I don't enjoy a minute on the course or road this season, I have some purpose there. More importantly, I am trying to re-spark my passion for running. That is one reason I started this blog, to be honest. Running has become a way of life for me, as it is for many runners. I neither want to give up on it, nor continue down this road without even enjoying the smells.
Gotta run...
Friday, August 5, 2011
Making it hurt
Let me start by explaining the title of this blog: Making it hurt. If you're an athlete, the concept should come quite easily to you (even if you're not, it should still come easily). When you train, how do you know that you are progressing? How do you know that what you are doing is working? As a runner, I gauge my progress by pain. Not injurious pain, but muscle fatigue, heaviness when I breathe, side cramps, etc. When my abs hurt, I know that the core work I did the day before was successful. When my biceps are sore, I can assume the dumbbells I lifted have left a positive effect. When my calves are tight, the hills I ran yesterday must have impacted me.
I motivate myself by remembering that pain is necessary. To get stronger, it is a requirement. I even have a tattoo on my wrist to remind me during a race (I guess my parents can finally know about that one. Sorry, Mom and Dad.). Make it hurt. When I'm feeling tired and considering "tripping" over the next rock I see, Make it Hurt comes into play. Success does not come easily; if I want to improve, I know I must endure some degree of pain. In fact, it's time to go make it hurt some more. Peace.
I motivate myself by remembering that pain is necessary. To get stronger, it is a requirement. I even have a tattoo on my wrist to remind me during a race (I guess my parents can finally know about that one. Sorry, Mom and Dad.). Make it hurt. When I'm feeling tired and considering "tripping" over the next rock I see, Make it Hurt comes into play. Success does not come easily; if I want to improve, I know I must endure some degree of pain. In fact, it's time to go make it hurt some more. Peace.
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