My Love For Running | Refresh

I love running. I mean, really love it. Not because it tones my legs, burns fat, increases my stamina (which also increases the length I can hold a note when I sing) and generally keeps me fit. Nope. I run because it makes me happy, it makes me feel free, and because I feel invincible with the wind rushing past me and my favorite songs blasting in my ears. Yes, in a way, I suppose it gets me high.

A few of my friends run marathons (one has even done an Iron Man or two), and they inspired me to take on the pavement last summer. Historically, I liked running, and I was fast. I’m short (and all body and no legs, no less), but I was faster than a lot of the kids in school, especially when I sprinted. If I’d been competitive, I’d have joined track. I considered it, but shied away: I hate competition.

What I didn’t realize is how self-competitive running is. Sure, you can try to beat someone else, but what does that really mean? For me, nothing. It was cool if I ran ahead of a lot of people, but I didn’t really care that much about being first. I just wanted to do the best I could for myself. And yes, I wanted to keep getting better and better. I wanted to see how far I could push myself.

So when I started my running journey in July, 2014, that’s exactly what I did. I hadn’t run a significant distance in years, but I threw my walking shoes on (bad move, and I quickly discovered I needed proper running shoes), slathered myself in sunscreen and went out the door. That first run was terrible: I was slow, got winded fast and only managed to go a couple of miles. It was hot, I was panting like crazy, and I’m sure my posture was absolutely terrible. I had to stop and walk for a minute or so, but I managed to finish strong(ish). Despite how messy it was, I was proud of that first run.

I kept at it. Every few days I’d go out, tracking my progress, going further and further. I got faster. I got stronger. I was super-excited when my legs got really toned and everything slimmed down. I wasn’t winded as much when I went up several flights of stairs. That was, initially, the part I loved most.

Then, somewhere along the lines, I started to love how it felt to run. This took me by surprise. I focused less on the fitness, distance, or speed, and more on the experience. Early this summer was when I fully embraced the power of running. Especially when those goosebump-inducing moments in my favorite songs played as I ran, I felt amazing, like I could do anything. I’d sprint, upwards of 10 mph (especially listening to this), for a minute or so, wondering how fast I could get and how long I could maintain that speed. I’d put my arms out and close my eyes and smell the air and feel the sun on my face. I’m sure I looked like a crazy person, but I didn’t care. I felt revived, renewed, cleansed. Running was suddenly more than just a workout; it was a spiritual experience.

As my stamina increased and my love for running grew, the distance I covered continued going up. I’d do a few maintenance runs through the week (anywhere from 3-6 miles each) and once a week would do a longer run (8-10+). After steadily increasing my long runs, I finally decided to make it a full half-marathon, and successfully ran about 13.5 miles without slowing down. How did I do that? Whoa, it was so cool!

I’ve never run in a race: I’m not that kind of runner. I suppose I would, just for kicks, and I have goals to do a half-marathon or two at some point. But I’m perfectly content to run just for the fun of it. I know a lot of you are shaking your heads and wondering, “how could running be fun”?! But it is to me. I saw a T-shirt on Pinterest that said “running is a mental sport and we’re all insane.” I love that (where can I find that shirt, anyway?). Call me crazy, baby.

My love for the running high continues to get bigger all the time. I’ve had to give it up (temporarily) a few times (strained chest muscles, autoimmune disease flares), but absence makes the heart grow fonder, and when I run now, I appreciate it even more. To be able to physically push myself to the limit, without pain, without being dizzy or unsteady on spindly legs, it’s amazing.

I cherish every run. I take it in. I enjoy the sunrises and sunsets and the breeze. I smile and say hello to every person I pass. If it rains, I keep on, happily soaked and eyelashes sticking together every time I blink. When the wind blows hard, I let it carry me forward and enjoy the challenge when I hit it head on. Don’t ever tell me I shouldn’t run, or can’t run: I will prove you wrong. Even if my own body fights my love for running, I’ll always be back. I will defy the laws of physics and gravity and I will fly! Okay, that’s pretty ambitious. But why not? So if you see a crazy pixie-haired girl running with her eyes closed and her arms out wide, it’s just me, in a moment, flying high.