Thursday, June 02, 2011

I Can Do Hard Things


Here's the thing: I am not naturally athletic. Not by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, I think my peak athleticism was in 6th grade when I was the girl to beat, among both sexes, in short sprints. I had a pretty mean slap shot in floor hockey as well, both in gym class with Mr. G, and in my basement where my brother and I may have broken a window a time or two. Ah, the glory days. I suppose I'm one of those nearly middle-aged people reminiscing about their athletic prowess in their school-days. Elementary school days.

At any given moment, i would much rather read a book than exert myself in any way. I would also rather, at all times, be inside the comfort of my climate-controlled air conditioned house fully furnished with couches than to be outside for almost any reason- where temperatures fluctuate, humidity wraps itself around you like a smothering cloak, things are forever swarming and crawling on you. I think Denise said it best when describing our family, "We're low-level recreators".

However, from as early as I can remember, I've envied runners. I always assumed that running was something that required a specific gene- you either had the gene and were therefore a runner or were capable of becoming a runner, or you did not. I fit squarely in the latter group: I definitely did not have the gene. I remember watching Law & Order over the years, and determining if I could outrun my attacker. Sadly in every instance I was forced to stop, doubled over, hands on my knees as I tried to catch my breath and my attacker inevitably overcame me. I could never escape someone in pursuit of me. So I resigned myself to envy and sloth.

It's not that I never tried; I remember several times as a teenager trying to get out there and improve my run: walk ratio, but it was just so hard. And even after 3 or 4 tries I still didn't seem to see rapid improvement. It was still hard. It still made my lungs burn and my feet feel like they were encased in cement blocks. I was an imposter- who was I fooling? I could try and run, but I would still never be a runner. Genetics were against me, and genetics combined with fat legs and a propensity towards laziness were formidable opponents indeed.

I don't know when my mindset changed, but I think about 2 years ago when Fiona was a few months old, I got it in my head that I was going to try again. I know I will never be a talented athlete- I can't play any sports and do not relish any activity where a ball is flying towards my head. I do not enjoy the thrill of exercise. I find it all boring, tedious, and hard. However- I thought through hard work and perseverance, I could train myself to run. You don't necessarily have to have any skill to run, you just need to work hard. And lazy though I might be, I am also quite tenacious. It's one the strange dichotomies of my personality. (Hence, the Badger. Badgers are nothing if not tenacious.)

What appealed to me so much about running was the honesty of it. It was so simple, so clear cut, unpretentious, not contrived. It was hard, but I saw through many examples of former non-runners, it was something you could learn to do. It was solitary. Running took me somewhere, both in my mind on on my feet. Exercise is not a social activity for me. I run to escape. I run to run away from my family. When I run, I am both running towards something, and running to escape something. Only this time it's not an imaginary predator from Law & Order- I am running to escape the pressures and stresses of domestic life. Smotherhood. I am running away from the role of mother and caregiver and running towards myself. While I am running I leave it all out there so that when I return I am ready again. Ready to be the mother. 

6 months ago I was able to run 3 miles at a stretch (albeit very slowly) several times a week. I don't think that I will ever be especially skilled at running, or ever very fast. But the fact that I am running at all, is a huge accomplishment for me. The exhilaration and pride I feel after a run when I have pushed myself to the limit and given everything I have is unrivaled with anything else I have ever done. Running 3 miles was impossible, and I proved to myself that I could do the impossible. That I could change who I was and who I wanted to be. That I could do hard things. And if I could learn to run 3, why not more?

9 comments:

Jill said...

I was reliving my glory days as the queen of kickball (in 5th and 6th grade) just yesterday as I played with a class of 7th graders. It's sad how far I'm fallen (how wide I've gotten).

I think it's wonderful that you're pushing yourself to run. I am way more fond of walking as it's far less jarring to my chest.

Anne said...

I love this! As a non-runner who has run three marathons (the physical therapist I worked with after my first told me it was an absolute miracle I ran a marathon...my body is just not made for it), I know you can definitely add a few miles to your base (or even more!). You may not need the extra motivation, but in the event that you're like me and need a concrete goal to work towards, you should see if there are any 8 or 10k's in your area to register and train for.

Happy running!

rmt said...

I love this post! I'm so proud of you! :)

Susan said...

Sounds like you'll be running!

Dad will be proud.Me too.

Running. Ugh. I just can't do it. Walking is good,but a bit boring!

I like your tenacity, little miss badger. Grandpa called it right!

And very funny/entertaining writing.

{natalie} said...

i am a non runner as well. i wish i was a runner. i wish i loved it. but i don't.

good job on pushing yourself. you are awesome!

ps i emailed your book party to my friend and she posted it on www.tangledandtrue.com not sure if you saw it.

Charlotte said...

I love being a low-level recreator. And I admire your determination to become a runner. I've tried. And failed. But maybe I keep trying. . . .

shannon said...

a low level recreator? too funny!
running is not my thing. sadly, any formal exercise isn't my thing...
I must say that I do envy runners...well, maybe it's the running shoes that I'm envying more than the actual runners themselves...

I'm laughing about you writing about being a running imposter...
I used to pretend that I played tennis...

You have a funny writing style...

P.S. Click onto my blogpost for today...I have a few pictures that I want you to see...

michelle said...

I have always envied runners as well. I love your tenacity. It reminds me of Elder Oaks' conference talk I read the other night about desire - that sometimes we can sublimate one desire (like wanting to sit on the couch) with another (getting out and running), if it is important enough to us.

My neighbor (Traci) is going to run a 50-mile race next week. To train, she runs a few miles every day and a long run (18-25) once a week. She runs a marathon. every. week. My point is, there must be something addictive about running, because what the??

Diana said...

I envy you I am not a runner but would love to be one.

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