Many times in my life, I tried to make myself into a runner. Running has so many benefits--the exercise, the outdoors, the endorphins, but until a few years ago, I forced myself to do it, like taking medicine. Then I’d rebel for a while, claiming that I just didn't have "a runner's build," and try another form of cardio. Though I love to dance and surf, wherever I am, I can complete a good run (including stretching and cool down) in 45 minutes. That's hard to beat in efficiency or convenience.
How did I learn to like it? My husband, a serious runner, though he claims otherwise, told me his secret. He said when he's out of shape, he'll jog until he's tired, then walk awhile, then jog awhile, then walk. This had honestly never occurred to me. In my black and white thinking, I thought if I went for a run, I had to run the whole time, painful or not. I tried his method, and found that not only did I have more fun, but over time I began running more and walking less. One day I realized I had happily jogged three miles without stopping. Pretty awesome, huh?
Like anything, some days are better than others. Yesterday, I was a little stiff, a little slow, a little tired. So I walked a few times, and cut my run short. The miracle is that I felt okay about that. I had accomplished the main objectives—time outside, alone, with a raised pulse. (As a bonus, I had an inspiration for my novel too.) With running, as with writing, the trick seems to be encouraging myself to grow without pushing myself too hard. Yesterday I struck that balance well, other days not so much.
Carl’s theory of jogging, which might apply to life in general: Respect your limits, and know that if you keep trying, your limits will expand.
Well said!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Jennifer. I'm just getting into Try Not to Breathe - the writing is beautiful.
DeleteI did the walk/run thing for years. It really worked for me. I did three 1/2 marathons at a 11-to-12-mile pace and never felt like I was going to drop dead like I do with straight running. It's a fabulous workout.
ReplyDeletePeggy - you're an inspiration! I'm doing a five mile race in April, so perhaps one day I'll make it to a half marathon. Thanks for writing.
DeleteI think Carl's therory - Respect your limits, and know that if you keep trying, your limits will expand - definitely applies to the writing life.
ReplyDeleterunning is like getting new words on the page - walking is like all the rest of the work - research, editing, workshops, critique, rewriting, inspiration etc. A writer needs all of it to get the finish line aka "the end"
Carol: I smiled as I read this because I seem to see metaphors in everything. Is that a symptom of a writer's world view?
DeleteI have two bad knees, so running any distance is probably not good for me, but I still try to do short sprints on my dog walks for the sheer thrill of moving fast. Running proves to me that still got it -- maybe not youth, but a youthful spirit. It's free, it's fast and so convenient. Damn these knees!
ReplyDeleteI think Carl's running theory is mostly about staying in the game. There are many ways to get to a destination ... fast sprint or a meandering pace. The key is to enjoy the journey (and in my case, arrive jogging, not limping).
Great thoughts, Broads :) Chris, thanks for the reminder to enjoy the journey, at whatever pace. And Carol, great metaphor. I got some new words on the page this morning, and it did feel like runner's high!
ReplyDeleteGood observation about life and expanding limits. I've always been a run-walker, having had 4 dogs. Although we have often differed on where to stop and smell the roses (or fire hydrant or poo), my pups and I have always agreed on one thing: some things in life only merit a passing glance, while others must be savored.
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