become a runner

How did I not know about this place? It’s just acres and acres of trails, in the woods, in meadows, by the river…amazing. AND, it’s basically Dog Country. We were able to run trails all Saturday morning with the dogs off-leash the entire time, with no fear of hikers coming along and lecturing about how “Your dogs really should be on a leash” in that wonderfully righteous way they have. The furbs were in heaven. There were even people on horseback! It’s like a huge animal playground.

Anyway, this is an especially excellent find for me, as I am finding trail running immensely more tolerable than road-running, for the privacy as much as anything. I still struggle with my form, though I have lost much of the metronome action thanks to input from Jack, Ryan, and YouTube. I find I still want to hunch down into sprint position, and find the more-erect posture of just, like, jogging to be counterintuitive. Running trails removes the feeling of being watched, so I can concentrate less on feeling foolish and more on getting it right. Plus, the uneven terrain means that I am constantly adapting my form, so I can avoid overthinking (a problem I first noticed when skiing).

The downside is that I’ve been fighting off a cold since we got back, and after Saturday’s run, my body sort of threw in the towel, like, “Really? Are you kidding with this?” and I’ve been sick ever since. Still, it’s just a cold. and we’ll definitely be exploring the delta much more, especially as the days (THANK GOD) get longer.

I was giving some thought to Couch to 5K, which is what I was using as a program to improve my running game, such as it is, and most of the thought revolved around how much I hate it. Then I was YouTubing some videos about proper running form to address my metronome issue, and one of the folks in the video was giving the whole “Correct running technique will blah blah improve safety blah blah improve performance blah blah increase your speed...” and I perked up a little at that, because, hey, I like to go fast.

And then I was reading someone blogging about how she’s improved her mile by like a minute, and I thought, “I don’t even know how fast I run a mile.” And it hit me: I don’t want to do Couch to 5K—I don’t want to run for a minute and then walk for a minute; I want to know how fast I’m going and then go faster than that.

It actually speaks to why I don’t hold running in much esteem to begin with: there’s no winning. You’re just bouncing along, like la la la, I’m in the zone, I’m breaking through the wall, I’m like totally on a transcendent plane, la la la. It’s just not aggressive enough for me. So, lightbulb moment, I realized that all I need to do is get my butt on a track, figure out how fast I run a mile, and then run it faster every day. I’ve been way overcomplicating it.

Later I can add distance in alignment with your average sprint triathlon, but for now, the kick I need is making this a competitive endeavor. I just can’t to it otherwise.

Despite misgivings about the wisdom of working out while hungover, I dragged Roose to the gym on Saturday morning, after a night spent drinking wine and trying to escape the clutches of Bighands T. Hookerkiller. Her gym is one of the nicest I’ve seen (racquetball courts!) and if it weren’t a three hour commute, I would totally consider joining. Anyway, they have these precors that are very much like being in the Powerloader from Aliens (the best of the Quadrilogy, tell it true), so I spent a bit of time stomping around in it and calling people “You bitch!” but what I’m really getting at is that you can simulate running but without the shin splints! Then Roose had to go outside to throw up.

Okay, I got up early so I’d have time to fit in my first “Become a Runner” workout (I was going to shorten that but it acronyms to BAR. AWESOME. I think I will call it a Brunner, or Brunnah more probably, workout) before the Eagles game, and I did get out there, IN THE RAIN, to get it done.

The thing is this: I can tell already, I totally suck at this. I tend to lean way forward as in a sprint, and then I realize it and overcompensate by leaning back and then that’s all wrong and I look ridiculous, like a traveling metronome. And then there the smaller details, like should I clench my hands into fists or just kind of let them drape into loose little balls? How much should I extend my lead leg? How can I keep Junebug from yanking on her leash and wrecking my rhythm? If I wore my trail runners on the pavement, would it ruin them? Should I warm up, stretch, and then run, or warm up, run, and then stretch?

Ahh brother. I guess I better do some research. Should you need to research a hobby?

If Roose DOES come down tonight, I’m skipping the gym so I can hang out with her. If she does not come to town, today will be the first day of becoming a runner. That’s right! Getting off the beloved elliptical and onto the treadmill starts this very evening. Unless!

I keep having this dream wherein I’m running in the Park Blocks and it’s very, very fulfilling.

And then when I’m at the gym and on the elliptical, which is of course second row behind the treadmills because the runners are so VERY VERY SPECIAL AND IMPORTANT that they get to be closest to the front, I watch those runners, well, run, and they seem to be in on some secret that I kind of feel curious about.

Mind, I see no value inherent in running for its own sake. I mean, I have a car, and besides, in a family full of athletes, there is not one single runner, so it’s not like I’m inclined toward it naturally. Soccer certainly involves running, but not just aimlessly running around—there’s winning involved after all. But I can’t stop dreaming that dream, and besides, I love biking and swimming so I may as well complete the trifecta. Watch this space for a triathlon goal!