Some people have flying dreams. I have running dreams.
Last night, I was running. Chasing my daughter through an urban park. It was spring sunny, a light breeze and the grass was green. It was fun. It was effortless. My daughter laughed and I kept running. It was good. And I knew I was dreaming.
I have been running since 1992. I started running because I met a boy who ran. I married him and kept running. Over the course of (Good Lord!) twenty years of running, I've toed the line at marathons, half-marathons, 10ks, 5ks, and relays. I don't own any high heels, but I do have three pairs of running shoes in the closet and one in the garage. My knees are held together with straps, my IT band is on a first name basis with a foam roller, and I spend most of my days (so sorry!) in spandex.
But, for the past three or four years, my running has, well, sucked. It was nothing like my dreams. It hurt. It made me grumpy. It wasn't fun. I was slower than slow and nothing worked. I felt like I tied anvils onto my feet instead of shoes and my veins were filled with sludge. I felt like a middle-aged woman. And then, last October, I put a weighted bar on my shoulders, went down into a squat, and didn't come back up. X-rays, an MRI and a Neurosurgeon later, I was diagnosed with an out of whack spine, severe disc degeneration, pinched nerves and arthritis. Lots of arthritis. The picture was ugly (all of them) but honestly, it was the best news ever.
I run because it's an ego boost. No one else makes me tie my shoes. No one else logs the miles. When it comes down to it, no one else gets me to the start line and across the finish line except me. As a SAHM, having that validation is invaluable. It makes me feel worthy. Knowing that the decline in my running, the aches, pains and discomfort, wasn't in my head, wasn't just me being grumpy, wasn't me being old, was fantastic! I wasn't nuts; I was just put together wrong!
That was October. Since then, my son has grown another two inches, my daughter has mastered fractions and I have a reserved spot at physical therapy. In March, I was given the green light to run again. Slowly and not much - 30 seconds to 2 minutes walking for 15 minutes - but running.
I have never felt like more of a beginner, a newbie, afraid of taking a wrong step and hurting again than I did those first 30 seconds. But it was a gooooood 30 seconds. It didn't hurt. It was easy. At the end of 15 minutes, I wanted to do more. But I didn't because for a brief 15 minutes, I had a glimpse of what running could be like again, and as long as my knees hold out, I am not going back.
So, it's now almost May. I'm running 3 minutes to 1 minute and it's time to start thinking about toeing that line again. Something small at first, a 5k or work my way up to an 8k. And if I do this smart, and do it right, maybe I'll be writing about running 26.2 again. Because yeah, I'm getting older, but maybe that means I'm getting wiser, too.
I have been running since 1992. I started running because I met a boy who ran. I married him and kept running. Over the course of (Good Lord!) twenty years of running, I've toed the line at marathons, half-marathons, 10ks, 5ks, and relays. I don't own any high heels, but I do have three pairs of running shoes in the closet and one in the garage. My knees are held together with straps, my IT band is on a first name basis with a foam roller, and I spend most of my days (so sorry!) in spandex.
But, for the past three or four years, my running has, well, sucked. It was nothing like my dreams. It hurt. It made me grumpy. It wasn't fun. I was slower than slow and nothing worked. I felt like I tied anvils onto my feet instead of shoes and my veins were filled with sludge. I felt like a middle-aged woman. And then, last October, I put a weighted bar on my shoulders, went down into a squat, and didn't come back up. X-rays, an MRI and a Neurosurgeon later, I was diagnosed with an out of whack spine, severe disc degeneration, pinched nerves and arthritis. Lots of arthritis. The picture was ugly (all of them) but honestly, it was the best news ever.
I run because it's an ego boost. No one else makes me tie my shoes. No one else logs the miles. When it comes down to it, no one else gets me to the start line and across the finish line except me. As a SAHM, having that validation is invaluable. It makes me feel worthy. Knowing that the decline in my running, the aches, pains and discomfort, wasn't in my head, wasn't just me being grumpy, wasn't me being old, was fantastic! I wasn't nuts; I was just put together wrong!
That was October. Since then, my son has grown another two inches, my daughter has mastered fractions and I have a reserved spot at physical therapy. In March, I was given the green light to run again. Slowly and not much - 30 seconds to 2 minutes walking for 15 minutes - but running.
I have never felt like more of a beginner, a newbie, afraid of taking a wrong step and hurting again than I did those first 30 seconds. But it was a gooooood 30 seconds. It didn't hurt. It was easy. At the end of 15 minutes, I wanted to do more. But I didn't because for a brief 15 minutes, I had a glimpse of what running could be like again, and as long as my knees hold out, I am not going back.
So, it's now almost May. I'm running 3 minutes to 1 minute and it's time to start thinking about toeing that line again. Something small at first, a 5k or work my way up to an 8k. And if I do this smart, and do it right, maybe I'll be writing about running 26.2 again. Because yeah, I'm getting older, but maybe that means I'm getting wiser, too.