Friday, April 30, 2004
Bottomless Pit
Starving. Starving. Starving.
I am always hungry. And the more miles I put in each week, the hungrier I get.
Let me put it in perspective for you…take yesterday for example.
Breakfast, 9 am: 2 eggs (1 whole, 1 just whites) and a huge bowl of shredded wheat
Snack, 10:30 am: Green apple, handful of pretzels
Lunch, Noon: Huge leafy green salad with veggies and chicken, vinaigrette, more pretzels
Snack 3 pm: Yogurt and a granola bar
In the Car Snack 4:30 pm: Banana
Pre Run Snack 5:30 pm: Whole wheat bread (1 slice), all natural peanut butter, gatorade.
Run 6:15 pm: Hill repeats; Up and down 4 times, plus an additional mile, Approx. 2.75 miles in 27:31.
Dinner 7:30 pm: Pasta, ground turkey and a salad. Small slice of banana bread.
Overall: Lots of carbs, decent amount of protein and a fair amount of fat. Quite a bit of food for 5’5’’ 130 lbs me right? I eat like this every day. Balance is what I strive for and I think I do a pretty darn good job!
Yet there I was, hunger pangs gnawing at me about halfway through the hills. Not bad enough to stop, but just enough to send up the “sugar crash coming” warning flags. I managed to finish the run without any problems, which was great. And I didn’t rip my husband’s head off when I got back to the house (which tends to happen when I get really, really hungry – poor guy!). But still. What the hell?
How can I possibly eat any more? I think part of the problem is getting over the stigma (thank you Hollywood and Sports Illustrated) that food equals fat. I have to remember that being hungry means that I need fuel and without it, my running will suffer. It’s a tough obstacle to overcome!
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I am always hungry. And the more miles I put in each week, the hungrier I get.
Let me put it in perspective for you…take yesterday for example.
Breakfast, 9 am: 2 eggs (1 whole, 1 just whites) and a huge bowl of shredded wheat
Snack, 10:30 am: Green apple, handful of pretzels
Lunch, Noon: Huge leafy green salad with veggies and chicken, vinaigrette, more pretzels
Snack 3 pm: Yogurt and a granola bar
In the Car Snack 4:30 pm: Banana
Pre Run Snack 5:30 pm: Whole wheat bread (1 slice), all natural peanut butter, gatorade.
Run 6:15 pm: Hill repeats; Up and down 4 times, plus an additional mile, Approx. 2.75 miles in 27:31.
Dinner 7:30 pm: Pasta, ground turkey and a salad. Small slice of banana bread.
Overall: Lots of carbs, decent amount of protein and a fair amount of fat. Quite a bit of food for 5’5’’ 130 lbs me right? I eat like this every day. Balance is what I strive for and I think I do a pretty darn good job!
Yet there I was, hunger pangs gnawing at me about halfway through the hills. Not bad enough to stop, but just enough to send up the “sugar crash coming” warning flags. I managed to finish the run without any problems, which was great. And I didn’t rip my husband’s head off when I got back to the house (which tends to happen when I get really, really hungry – poor guy!). But still. What the hell?
How can I possibly eat any more? I think part of the problem is getting over the stigma (thank you Hollywood and Sports Illustrated) that food equals fat. I have to remember that being hungry means that I need fuel and without it, my running will suffer. It’s a tough obstacle to overcome!
Wednesday, April 28, 2004
Short and Sweet
To make up for the monster of a post from earlier today, here's a quick recap of today's run:
4.25 miles, 38:16
Nothing exceptional to note other than a wind strong enough to make me feel like I was a turtle running underwater. Annalisa, I don't know how you run along the Charles with those winds!
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4.25 miles, 38:16
Nothing exceptional to note other than a wind strong enough to make me feel like I was a turtle running underwater. Annalisa, I don't know how you run along the Charles with those winds!
In the Beginning...Before the Orange Hat
Everyone has a story about how they fell in love with running. Here's mine. It's long, just like a good training run on a Saturday morning...
I usually don’t make New Year’s Resolutions, passing them off as trite, meaningless promises we make to ourselves but easily forget about when the hangover wears off and we’re faced with the reality of life again. “I’ll go the gym everyday, eat healthy and try to be a more positive person at work. And I’ll volunteer for Big Brothers/Big Sisters.” The first two weeks, we hit the gym every day, eat according to the Food Pyramid and grumble less at work. We call Big Brothers/Big Sisters for a brochure. By week four, we go to the gym twice a week, eat whatever we want to on the weekends (we are working out after all...we can eat what we want to, right?) and the Big Brothers application sits on the desk with our name and address filled out. By the end of February, we consider walking to the mailbox to be our daily “workout” and the lettuce and tomato that comes on our daily cheeseburger counts as two servings of vegetables.
But I have friends who like to make resolutions, so each year I listen to their latest aspirations with mild interest, resisting the urge to mock them. Last year - January 2003 - was no different and I listened as my friend told me she wanted to run a marathon. She even asked me if I wanted to join her.
Was she insane? Did she really think I could run 26.2 miles? Did she really think I’d WANT to run 26.2 miles? Why in the world would anyone want to do that? Four, five hours – or more! – of running. RUNNING. Where was the joy in that? What was so fun about that? She must have hit her head on something and she was confusing me with someone else she knew. Had she noticed the look on people’s faces as they cross the finish line at these events? They look like they are being tortured. And there’s a reason for all those medical people stationed along the route and at the finish line. Needless to say, I declined her offer with a "in a million years, no way am I running a marathon." She convinced her then-boyfriend-now-fiance to join her instead.
On some level though, her personal challenge inspired me. I decided to get serious about fitness once and for all. I was tired of being unhappy with my physical appearance. I wanted to feel good about my body for a change. It can be embarrassing when people discover that I have a Master’s degree in Exercise Science, but that I hadn’t been to the gym in three months. And I decided that running wasn’t such a bad way to get in better shape. I incorporated running into my weight-training schedule. My initial goal was to get to two miles in the 30-minute time limit I had on the treadmill at the gym.
And I got there in no time at all. I was amazed. So then I pushed for three miles in 30 minutes. And again, it happened. But I hated every minute of it. I looked at the clock constantly – glared at it, hoping that somehow the daggers shooting from my eyes would force the numbers to move faster. I would have to reduce the speed and walk fast to catch my breath and then I’d kick it back up. Was the 30 minutes up yet? Was it time to go home yet?
I needed a goal, something to motivate me, hold myself accountable. There was a 5-mile "walk-a-thon" that I participate in each year and I had told myself that I was going to run it this time. I hadn't run more than 3 miles in over ten years, but dammit, I was going to do it.
I recruited my marathon-training friend to join me. I spent a few weeks “training,” trying to work up to five miles, but I had no idea what I was doing and ended up getting sick and being out-of-service the week before the “walk-a-thon.”
It was a rainy, wet, cool April day. Steady, slow drizzle kind of rain. She and I hit the dirt (State forest trail) and I let her set the pace. I definitely had too much clothing on and started pulling the layers off. Overall, it didn’t feel too bad and that surprised me. It was actually nice to have someone to run with and talk to. Then I got really, really hungry. Really. Really. Hungry. At the turn around point, I had to eat. Oranges. Twizzlers. Anything they had. And I drank a ton of water.
We ran back and I was hungry again! But I felt great. Invigorated. Proud to have run five miles. Beaming from ear to ear. I was amazed that I had actually done it. I basked in the glow of my accomplishment for an hour and then it happened. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I fell sound asleep for two hours and woke up with an incredible headache. (Looking back, I realize it was from dehydration.) But, I was back on the treadmill a few days later and looking for a new goal.
This, of course, led me to discover half-marathons and other distances that I could imagine actually finishing. I ran my first race in August - a 5 miler. I started reading books, magazines and anything else I could get my hands on to learn more about running. I bought new sneakers and breathable clothing. I got myself a FlashFlo for hydration on longer runs. I turned into a running nerd. And I continue to love every minute of it - the good, the bad and the ugly.
Oh yeah...two more thing. I really do wear an orange hat (or visor if it's hot) - especially on race day. And I haven't signed up for a marathon yet, but it doesn't seem nearly as impossible as it did a year ago. Never say never.
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I usually don’t make New Year’s Resolutions, passing them off as trite, meaningless promises we make to ourselves but easily forget about when the hangover wears off and we’re faced with the reality of life again. “I’ll go the gym everyday, eat healthy and try to be a more positive person at work. And I’ll volunteer for Big Brothers/Big Sisters.” The first two weeks, we hit the gym every day, eat according to the Food Pyramid and grumble less at work. We call Big Brothers/Big Sisters for a brochure. By week four, we go to the gym twice a week, eat whatever we want to on the weekends (we are working out after all...we can eat what we want to, right?) and the Big Brothers application sits on the desk with our name and address filled out. By the end of February, we consider walking to the mailbox to be our daily “workout” and the lettuce and tomato that comes on our daily cheeseburger counts as two servings of vegetables.
But I have friends who like to make resolutions, so each year I listen to their latest aspirations with mild interest, resisting the urge to mock them. Last year - January 2003 - was no different and I listened as my friend told me she wanted to run a marathon. She even asked me if I wanted to join her.
Was she insane? Did she really think I could run 26.2 miles? Did she really think I’d WANT to run 26.2 miles? Why in the world would anyone want to do that? Four, five hours – or more! – of running. RUNNING. Where was the joy in that? What was so fun about that? She must have hit her head on something and she was confusing me with someone else she knew. Had she noticed the look on people’s faces as they cross the finish line at these events? They look like they are being tortured. And there’s a reason for all those medical people stationed along the route and at the finish line. Needless to say, I declined her offer with a "in a million years, no way am I running a marathon." She convinced her then-boyfriend-now-fiance to join her instead.
On some level though, her personal challenge inspired me. I decided to get serious about fitness once and for all. I was tired of being unhappy with my physical appearance. I wanted to feel good about my body for a change. It can be embarrassing when people discover that I have a Master’s degree in Exercise Science, but that I hadn’t been to the gym in three months. And I decided that running wasn’t such a bad way to get in better shape. I incorporated running into my weight-training schedule. My initial goal was to get to two miles in the 30-minute time limit I had on the treadmill at the gym.
And I got there in no time at all. I was amazed. So then I pushed for three miles in 30 minutes. And again, it happened. But I hated every minute of it. I looked at the clock constantly – glared at it, hoping that somehow the daggers shooting from my eyes would force the numbers to move faster. I would have to reduce the speed and walk fast to catch my breath and then I’d kick it back up. Was the 30 minutes up yet? Was it time to go home yet?
I needed a goal, something to motivate me, hold myself accountable. There was a 5-mile "walk-a-thon" that I participate in each year and I had told myself that I was going to run it this time. I hadn't run more than 3 miles in over ten years, but dammit, I was going to do it.
I recruited my marathon-training friend to join me. I spent a few weeks “training,” trying to work up to five miles, but I had no idea what I was doing and ended up getting sick and being out-of-service the week before the “walk-a-thon.”
It was a rainy, wet, cool April day. Steady, slow drizzle kind of rain. She and I hit the dirt (State forest trail) and I let her set the pace. I definitely had too much clothing on and started pulling the layers off. Overall, it didn’t feel too bad and that surprised me. It was actually nice to have someone to run with and talk to. Then I got really, really hungry. Really. Really. Hungry. At the turn around point, I had to eat. Oranges. Twizzlers. Anything they had. And I drank a ton of water.
We ran back and I was hungry again! But I felt great. Invigorated. Proud to have run five miles. Beaming from ear to ear. I was amazed that I had actually done it. I basked in the glow of my accomplishment for an hour and then it happened. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I fell sound asleep for two hours and woke up with an incredible headache. (Looking back, I realize it was from dehydration.) But, I was back on the treadmill a few days later and looking for a new goal.
This, of course, led me to discover half-marathons and other distances that I could imagine actually finishing. I ran my first race in August - a 5 miler. I started reading books, magazines and anything else I could get my hands on to learn more about running. I bought new sneakers and breathable clothing. I got myself a FlashFlo for hydration on longer runs. I turned into a running nerd. And I continue to love every minute of it - the good, the bad and the ugly.
Oh yeah...two more thing. I really do wear an orange hat (or visor if it's hot) - especially on race day. And I haven't signed up for a marathon yet, but it doesn't seem nearly as impossible as it did a year ago. Never say never.
Monday, April 26, 2004
I Never Claimed To Be The Sharpest Knife...
How intelligent is this? I challenged my friend, John-the-Marine, to a road race. We haven't picked a specific race yet but I told him that I would be willing to fly out to San Diego (oh, the sacrifices I make) to run in a race with him. Against him. A boy. A Marine.
And, of course, I told him that I would kick his ass. *Sigh*
My logic? I figured it would give him the incentive to get in shape while he's in Iraq and I get another trip out to sunny, beautiful San Diego. So it's really a win-win situation, right?
So far, he hasn't had much time to run so I'm thinking it will be an equal playing field by the time he returns. If he DOES find time to train...I am in sooo much trouble. Brilliant. Really.
And then there was tonight's stroke of brilliance. Running in the rain. Nothing quite like the feeling of cold, wet nylon sticking to the arms. I kept hoping it would stop before I left the house. It didn't stop. At. All. I ignored the taunting calls from the treadmill and headed outside, determined to "suck it up." Hell, how I am going to beat a Marine if I let a little rain keep me from training? More immediate though, how am I going to set that personal best in three weeks if I start thinking that the rain will melt me?
I'm happy to say that it wasn't that horrible...it was suprisingly refreshing. The rain was light but steady - up until I was 100 yards from the end when it ironically stopped - and the temperature was around 58 degrees. The very best part was getting through my route two minutes faster than I have been lately (29:34 - over 3 miles).
I ran because I could. No excuses.
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And, of course, I told him that I would kick his ass. *Sigh*
My logic? I figured it would give him the incentive to get in shape while he's in Iraq and I get another trip out to sunny, beautiful San Diego. So it's really a win-win situation, right?
So far, he hasn't had much time to run so I'm thinking it will be an equal playing field by the time he returns. If he DOES find time to train...I am in sooo much trouble. Brilliant. Really.
And then there was tonight's stroke of brilliance. Running in the rain. Nothing quite like the feeling of cold, wet nylon sticking to the arms. I kept hoping it would stop before I left the house. It didn't stop. At. All. I ignored the taunting calls from the treadmill and headed outside, determined to "suck it up." Hell, how I am going to beat a Marine if I let a little rain keep me from training? More immediate though, how am I going to set that personal best in three weeks if I start thinking that the rain will melt me?
I'm happy to say that it wasn't that horrible...it was suprisingly refreshing. The rain was light but steady - up until I was 100 yards from the end when it ironically stopped - and the temperature was around 58 degrees. The very best part was getting through my route two minutes faster than I have been lately (29:34 - over 3 miles).
I ran because I could. No excuses.
Sunday, April 25, 2004
I Can't Take It Back 'Cuz It's Already Out There
I have a goal for a May 15th 5K race and I'm putting it out there, which means I can't take it back.
There is, of course, a back story to the goal...
I have been friends with John and Jeanine since the sixth grade (1981) - easily earning them the title of "oldest and dearest" friends. Jeanine is the closest thing I have to a sister and the only reason I am not married to John is because Jeanine beat me to it. John is a pilot, ranked as a Major in the Marines and is currently in Iraq. Jeanine is home in California, still working as a vet and looking after a 2 year old and a 5 month old. I'm in awe of both of them for their level of commitment to each other, to the military and to making it all work.
The race on May 15th is on Armed Forces Day and is sponsored by the local V.F.W. I decided that I would run the race "in honor" of John and that I would set my sights on a personal best (PB). I even called the race director to suggest that he offer special race bibs which runners could buy to write on and run "in honor" of someone. The Hartford Marathon does this and I think it's a wonderful way to let the troops know that they are thought of and supported. Whether or not there are special bibs, I have a special Marines t-shirt ready to wear and will most likely write the name of John's unit on my leg.
I haven't told John or Jeanine about this yet - I figured I'd take pictures and let the images tell the story.
The course is hilly and I haven't be able to train as hard as I wanted to, but I am still determined to shoot for a PB. If the two of them can bear to spend the year apart, I can shrug off all my lame excuses and run as fast as I can.
So there it is, for all the world to read. No backing out now.
Keep your fingers crossed for me!
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There is, of course, a back story to the goal...
I have been friends with John and Jeanine since the sixth grade (1981) - easily earning them the title of "oldest and dearest" friends. Jeanine is the closest thing I have to a sister and the only reason I am not married to John is because Jeanine beat me to it. John is a pilot, ranked as a Major in the Marines and is currently in Iraq. Jeanine is home in California, still working as a vet and looking after a 2 year old and a 5 month old. I'm in awe of both of them for their level of commitment to each other, to the military and to making it all work.
The race on May 15th is on Armed Forces Day and is sponsored by the local V.F.W. I decided that I would run the race "in honor" of John and that I would set my sights on a personal best (PB). I even called the race director to suggest that he offer special race bibs which runners could buy to write on and run "in honor" of someone. The Hartford Marathon does this and I think it's a wonderful way to let the troops know that they are thought of and supported. Whether or not there are special bibs, I have a special Marines t-shirt ready to wear and will most likely write the name of John's unit on my leg.
I haven't told John or Jeanine about this yet - I figured I'd take pictures and let the images tell the story.
The course is hilly and I haven't be able to train as hard as I wanted to, but I am still determined to shoot for a PB. If the two of them can bear to spend the year apart, I can shrug off all my lame excuses and run as fast as I can.
So there it is, for all the world to read. No backing out now.
Keep your fingers crossed for me!
Saturday, April 24, 2004
Color Me Inspired.
It was good. Not great, but they can't all be great, right? Then there'd be nothing to strive for next time.
5.6 Miles; 53:26
The good news: I didn't crash. Well, that's not entirely true. I took some gatorade with me and I ate a Power Gel (green apple) around mile 4 when I was starting to feel a little "off." (Should I mention that I ate wheat toast with peanut butter and banana plus 12 ounces of gatorade 20 minutes before I left for the run?). A full fledged crash never happened. And now I feel fantastic. And not hungry.
The not-so-great news: I was plagued by a cramp for most of the run.
The crappy news: Off-topic, but related to my run - There's a pathway that I run on that I also volunteer to maintain (read: pick up trash). There's a group of us who spend an hour or so each month picking up trash (including empty heroin bags and dirty needles) and making sure the fencing is still intact. We worked on the path last Sunday. Six days ago. Six. There was no way to tell that we had ever been; the place was a mess. GGrrrrr.
Overall, the run was decent. I had not intended to run as far as I did but the inspiration was there and I went with it.
Decent week so far:
Monday: 3.25 miles
Tuesday: 4.25 miles
Thursday: 2.25 miles - hill repeats
Saturday: 5.6 miles
I haven't logged this many miles per week in ages. Hooray for spring!
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5.6 Miles; 53:26
The good news: I didn't crash. Well, that's not entirely true. I took some gatorade with me and I ate a Power Gel (green apple) around mile 4 when I was starting to feel a little "off." (Should I mention that I ate wheat toast with peanut butter and banana plus 12 ounces of gatorade 20 minutes before I left for the run?). A full fledged crash never happened. And now I feel fantastic. And not hungry.
The not-so-great news: I was plagued by a cramp for most of the run.
The crappy news: Off-topic, but related to my run - There's a pathway that I run on that I also volunteer to maintain (read: pick up trash). There's a group of us who spend an hour or so each month picking up trash (including empty heroin bags and dirty needles) and making sure the fencing is still intact. We worked on the path last Sunday. Six days ago. Six. There was no way to tell that we had ever been; the place was a mess. GGrrrrr.
Overall, the run was decent. I had not intended to run as far as I did but the inspiration was there and I went with it.
Decent week so far:
Monday: 3.25 miles
Tuesday: 4.25 miles
Thursday: 2.25 miles - hill repeats
Saturday: 5.6 miles
I haven't logged this many miles per week in ages. Hooray for spring!
Looking for Inspiration
Today is one of those wonderful, warm, beautiful, albeit windy, spring days. I have about two hours of decent sunlight left and I need to either commit to running today or live with the decision to NOT go out today. I did a bunch of work around the house/yard and I'm worried about running out of fuel in the middle of the run.
This is a big deal for me - there are some days where no matter how much I eat, I end up running out of "juice" right in the middle of the run...not just a "tired" feeling, but that shaky, weak, cold clammy feeling you get when you just know your blood sugar level are in the basement somewhere. I've learned to take gel or a power bar with me in case of an "emergency" on the longer runs but once in a while, I get caught off guard on a short run and it really frustrates me. (If you saw how much food I eat you'd be amazed that this ever happens to me.)
And today is one of those days where I know I haven't eaten enough and I sure haven't hydrated enough...*sigh*...and tomorrow is supposed to be colder and cloudy...and I'm looking for inspiration to make it happen today.
Guess I'll grab a snack and a tall glass of Gatorade while I read some of the great running blogs out there. Let's see if that works!
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This is a big deal for me - there are some days where no matter how much I eat, I end up running out of "juice" right in the middle of the run...not just a "tired" feeling, but that shaky, weak, cold clammy feeling you get when you just know your blood sugar level are in the basement somewhere. I've learned to take gel or a power bar with me in case of an "emergency" on the longer runs but once in a while, I get caught off guard on a short run and it really frustrates me. (If you saw how much food I eat you'd be amazed that this ever happens to me.)
And today is one of those days where I know I haven't eaten enough and I sure haven't hydrated enough...*sigh*...and tomorrow is supposed to be colder and cloudy...and I'm looking for inspiration to make it happen today.
Guess I'll grab a snack and a tall glass of Gatorade while I read some of the great running blogs out there. Let's see if that works!
Friday, April 23, 2004
Over the Hills
After a disaster of a day, I could not wait to get home and hit the road. I didn't care that it was hot and a bit muggy. I didn't care that I had to dig a sports bra out of the dirty laundry. I needed to put some distance - both physical and mental - between the crappy day and me.
After about a 1/2 mile warm-up, I set my sights on some hill repeats. I say this like I've done it before; I haven't. This was my first attempt at "hill repeats" and I was determined to not be intimidated by the task at hand. There's this steep but short hill right near my house that always kicks my butt at the start of my run...so now I wanted to kick it back.
Being optimistic, I thought I would shoot for five times up the hill. Then I got the hill, and decided that three times up might be a more realistic goal. I wanted to feel proud when I was done, not defeated. And so it went - up the hill and down; repeat. Three times. It wasn't as bad as I thought, but it was hard. I was astonished when I realized that it was taking me over 2 minutes to conquer the hill each time! Of course, the downhill was the best part - I love when gravity does the work for me.
I finished up with another 1/2 mile and then grabbed my dogs for a cool-down walk together. The hill workout took about 24 minutes (without the cool-down walk) and this morning, my lungs feel like I developed asthma while I was sleeping. A little tight in the chest, but it's like sore muscles after a good weight-lifting workout - it reminds you of how hard you worked.
I may whine and complain about all the hills in my area of the state (Northeast Connecticut) but I just have to keep reminding myself that they will make a stronger runner.
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After about a 1/2 mile warm-up, I set my sights on some hill repeats. I say this like I've done it before; I haven't. This was my first attempt at "hill repeats" and I was determined to not be intimidated by the task at hand. There's this steep but short hill right near my house that always kicks my butt at the start of my run...so now I wanted to kick it back.
Being optimistic, I thought I would shoot for five times up the hill. Then I got the hill, and decided that three times up might be a more realistic goal. I wanted to feel proud when I was done, not defeated. And so it went - up the hill and down; repeat. Three times. It wasn't as bad as I thought, but it was hard. I was astonished when I realized that it was taking me over 2 minutes to conquer the hill each time! Of course, the downhill was the best part - I love when gravity does the work for me.
I finished up with another 1/2 mile and then grabbed my dogs for a cool-down walk together. The hill workout took about 24 minutes (without the cool-down walk) and this morning, my lungs feel like I developed asthma while I was sleeping. A little tight in the chest, but it's like sore muscles after a good weight-lifting workout - it reminds you of how hard you worked.
I may whine and complain about all the hills in my area of the state (Northeast Connecticut) but I just have to keep reminding myself that they will make a stronger runner.
Thursday, April 22, 2004
Run Because You Can
I was recently reading a column in Running Times magazine about runners who "run in honor" of a fallen soldier, departed loved one or someone else they might admire. The author of the column, Gordon Bakoulis, went on to write about the reasons why runners run. And her personal reason for running was because she could. I like that. That's a good reason. It's simple and to the point...I run because I can. I run because I have the physical ability to run. I run because I have the psychological fortitude (some would call it "insanity") to get out there and do it - even when I don't want to. I run because there are people in my life who can't or won't - the ones that can't, wish they could and the ones that won't...well, they don't know what they are missing out on.
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