In The Long Run...

Last week I went for a seven mile run down a beautiful trail near my home. It was a gorgeous day with temps in the low 70's, zero humidity, and lots of tall, full trees shading my path.  The birds sang to me along the way, and chipmunks scurried across the trail in front of me.  To be honest, I can't think of a more perfect morning. Except that I was running.  I really hate running!

Here's the thing, though.  I run just about every morning, I have for the past twenty five years or so.  I rarely miss a day.  But I hate it.

I've incorporated sprints, hill repeats, the works.  I wear a heart rate monitor and gage my workout effort and calories burned.  I'm actually pretty fast.  But I hate it.

I've had injuries (caused from running too much) that have required surgery. I stop running for the required rehab period, dutifully perform my physical therapy to recover properly, and am soon "hitting the trail" once again.  But I hate it.

We made a move recently from Florida to Pennsylvania because of my husband's work.  One of my only three demands issued upon moving was that he buy me a treadmill, so that I could continue running throughout the winter months.  But I hate it.

Here's the thing:  I run to keep my dress size in the single digits.  Period.  Throughout my life, I have searched (and searched!) for a more effective cardio-vascular exercise form that increases my heartbeat and burns fat as efficiently as running, and have found none. Cycling, aerobics, elliptical machine, stair-master, Zumba, swimming, Nordic Track, yoga, circuit training, all have failed in comparison.  Running, quite simply, gives me the most "bang for my buck."  I can run for 3.75 miles in 30 minutes and burn more fat than pedaling for an hour and a half on the bike, no matter how fast I go.

So, everyday, for 30-60 minutes, I run.  Even though I hate it.  I figure I can withstand one hour of hating something in order to enjoy the other twenty-three in non-fat bliss.  It's a fair trade, don't you think?

A few years back, my sister, Laura got involved in a running group that trained for the Chicago Marathon. She LOVED it, and told me I needed to enter races in order to find running fun, as she had.  I was skeptical.  I told her the term "Fun Run" seemed like an oxymoron to me.

That same year, at Alan's restaurant convention in Vegas, the planning committee announced that they'd be holding a 5K run the next day, and encouraged all employees and their spouses to enroll.  In Vegas.  You know, hot, dusty, DESERT Vegas!  Alan begged me to enter.  I said no.  He told me he'd buy me a cute new running outfit if I did.  So the next day, when I showed up at the starting line in my cute new running outfit, I was a little amazed at how nervous I felt.  I guess the butterflies helped, though, because I won!  Yep.  First for the ladies.  Got a medal and everything!  Alan proudly hugged me as I crossed the finish line. And as I gave him a sweaty, dusty hug back, I sweetly whispered into his ear, "Never again!"  Because I hated it.

I've entered a few more races since then; a 10K, 5-miler, even a half-marathon.  And I can honestly say I haven't enjoyed any of them.  To the right is a picture of me, #869, just finishing a 10K race.  Look how HAPPY I am!!  Seriously, I see the joyful, smiling faces of my fellow competitors, and I honestly don't get it!

I subscribe to Runner's World Magazine, and in it the various authors discuss how when it's raining buckets outside, or the temperature is below freezing and the sun hasn't even come up yet, they still can't WAIT to lace up the running shoes and head outside!  Freaks.  All of them!  Because the truth is, I'm out there running in the rain, cold and dark, too.  I'm just the only one saying, "Boy, this really SUCKS!!"

But a funny thing has happened since I've been doing all this running over the years.  I'm in great shape.  Although my weight may fluctuate, my blood pressure is terrific, and my heart and lungs are strong and clear.  Whenever I'm faced with anything remotely cardio-vascular in nature (mountain climbing, biking, hiking), it's usually relatively easy for me to accomplish.  There are some medical specialists who even believe that my running habit has served in keeping my inherited lymphoma in the "lazy, not-ever-going-to-kill-me" stage, rather than the severe form that killed my grandmother.

So we've made our peace, Running and I.  We tolerate each other quite well, I think.  I give Running 30-60 minutes of my day, and in return, it gives me a healthy, low fat body and a glowing report from my physician every year.  But I think we're both in agreement, no more stupid races.  Those things are just ridiculous.  Stupid.  (Wanna see my medal?)

Thanks for reading!!