My running

I had someone ask me the other day about when I started running. I find that question a challenge to answer because it’s not about the when for me but the why. I’ve been contemplating my running journey for a while. Sharing why I run is, for me, a story about me. I feel vulnerable when I am honest about why I race, why I run.

See, I’ve been running since high school. As I’ve mentioned before, I attended a boarding school in Kenya (Rift Valley Academy). I loved my experience there. As in any place though, there is always the good, the bad and then the ugly. What started out as runs in the morning to stay fit for field hockey soon grew into a competition between the girls in my dorm about who could get up the earliest and run the longest before breakfast closed at 7 am.

I took that somewhat unhealthy attitude of running into college where I was met, for the first time in my life, with junk food. Oh, the trials of a freshman are great but adding American junk food into the picture made it all the worse. Throw in my limited budget for food, so eating bagels became a mainstay, and the freshmen 15 packed on quickly.

So running began to be about weight control…and continued to progress into this realm of “I have to” instead of “I want to” or “I get to.” The “I have to” runs are without any joy, any peace and any fun. I would drag myself out each morning at 6 am for a run that was obligatory and flat. The Chicago weather didn’t contribute to the dull runs.

After college I had the opportunity to work at Honey Rock Camp in WI for the summer. I had time to run. So I began to run. In the woods. By myself. No obligation. No music. Me and the road.

And joy came back. I felt so free, so happy to be in nature, running just because. It was here that my running mentality switched to a new place. There was no longer this burden of having to run because I needed to “fill in the blank”…be fit, be slim, be healthy, be like everyone else, be… Instead, I began running because it felt good.

I like nothing better than spending time listening to my breathing, hearing my feet moving in rthymn to my heart beating. Seeing my body and my soul come together as I was meant to be.

Fast forward to birth of baby number two. I was on 6 weeks of complete bed rest with Tobin before he was born. My entire body went into a crazy spin once he was born. I began to wonder why I wasn’t getting over these “baby blues.” I found myself at my OB’s office 8 weeks post partum crying my eyes out. This is supposed to be a happy time. I remember being in love with being a mommy when Caroline was born. What happened? Why was I not happy? Here I had the two most beautiful babies in the world (don’t we all think that as mothers?) and I could barely get myself out of bed to be with them.

Lots of prescriptions later, I found myself wondering if there was a better way to tame this depression beast. I started running. Just a few miles. I found as I added miles, my depression decreased. Soon I was off all medicine and happy again.

Running once again became a way to deal with all my “issues.” Since Tobin’s birth almost four years ago, I have not stopped running. It is my release, my friend and my freedom. I started racing as a way to meet people. I love seeing new PR (personal records), meeting awesome runners (have you ever met a mean runner?)and seeing parts of our country from trails and roads.

So, the journey continues. I am already plotting and planning how I can run when baby number three enters my world. I feel so blessed to have a body that can move, can run. I do feel that this is my act of worship…it is where I feel most connected to God and myself. It is a true gift!