A Day In The Life Of A Runner

It's Saturday morning, 5:30 am, my alarm is going off. The mental game begins. "I'm too tired to go for a run. Is that aching in my hip going to return? Will I have the strength to do 9 miles today? I missed all of my runs this week, so maybe I won't even try to do the 9 miles. It wouldn't be a good idea." My lazy altar ego, which we will call resistance, shows no mercy. I have to push all these questions and doubts out of my head as I finally drag myself out of bed 15 minutes later. I am slow and inefficient with my time--more resistance?--and I don't head out the door to begin my run until 6:30. Joining me today are my dog Koda, my sister Denise, and my support crew--Chi Running app on my phone and Garmin heart rate watch on my wrist. Although we are heading out so early, I am in short sleeves and capris, a tribute to the beautiful spring weather we have been enjoying this week. I am not out to break any speed records today; indeed, I am still run-walking most of my longer runs, but still I am feeling better and more confident as soon as I am out the door, doing what I want to be doing--running. Slowly. 9 miles. For 3 hours.

The first 4.5 miles of our run are hilly and a somewhat challenging for me. Koda keeps us well entertained with his antics, trying so hard to stay in his "heel" while still sniffing, exploring, and marking as much as he possibly can. About a mile in he takes a pit stop, for which I am prepared with my little blue biodegradable bags. He seems very concerned when Denise runs off down a side street, as I take the time to clean up after my pooch. Her detour separates us for 10 - 15 minutes, during which Koda is nervously looking over his shoulder the entire time. Where could she be???!! Denise is faster and in better shape than I am at this point, so in order for us to run together she must take little side trips so she can push herself sufficiently hard while still feeling okay about doing her runs with me. Koda is very uncomfortable with this, to say the least, and can't keep from watching for her constantly until she finally returns. Once all is right in his universe again, he trots happily along, content that his 2 humans are safely with him. We run the first 4 1/2 miles on this hilly stretch, after which we drop Koda off at home and continue the rest of our run without him. This feels a little lonely.

The second half of the run is more challenging. Those first few steps back out the door of the house feel heavy and difficult. Now my muscles are feeling a bit more stiff and I am starting to feel some cramping in my quads. We continue on, however, and I try to pay more attention to my form as I go, endeavoring to relax my body more, align my spine, engage my core, and really lean into the run. This feels better for a couple of miles, but inevitably I hit that point in those final miles where my body keeps wanting to stop and walk. This is where the run becomes much less about form, heart rate, stamina, etc. and much more of the mental game. This is where that resistance really ramps up her efforts and tries to take over. She tells me that I am really feeling tired, that certainly I have pushed myself hard enough for one day, that walking would be better and more comfortable, and that there is no need to run anymore. Every time I slow down to a walk, I have to remind myself that I do still have the strength for a slow run, and that there isn't any need to walk. I don't have any major aches anywhere that might justify a walk instead of a run. I can do this, contrary to what the resistance is telling me.

And so the battle rages, step after step, block after block. I am grateful that this route is an out and back so the resistance can't talk me out of going the full distance at this point. All she can do is try to convince me to slow down, to walk, to complain, to feel sorry for myself. I must say that she is very, very good at her job
. But I keep going, running as much as I can and walking the rest, until I am only a short distance from home and I finally allow myself to slow to a cool-down walk. I have completed, in the end, more than 9.5 miles of walk-running, which, I note, is more than I have ever yet run (or run-walked as the case may be) in my life. What an accomplishment! I feel very happy!

Could I have done it without my team? Although somewhat less entertaining and a bit more lonely, I could have done it without Koda. At least I wouldn't have to carry poop bags with me. (o: Although it is a useful tool, I could have done it without my Garmin (which, by the way, died halfway through the run--oops! Guess I should have charged it the night before.). I could have done it without my Chi Running app beeping my cadence and whispering various selected form focuses into my ear. I hope that I could have done it without my sis, but I am glad for the time being that I don't have to do it without her. The long runs are so much more fun when she is with me. As for my lazy altar-ego, the devil on my shoulder, the resistance whose voice is always in my head, I am not sure if I could have done it without her. I think she is there to continually challenge me. She asks me why I am doing what I am doing, and she makes me decide whether I really want it. And the answers to those questions are what keep me going. So no, I don't think I could do it without her. I am glad she came along.