"Running is one of my favorite things."
You've all heard That Guy/Girl say it. To most listeners, this statement brings to mind one of four assumptions:
A) The individual is lying
B) The individual is trying to impress somebody
C) The individual originates from Eugene, Oregon or an eastern African country
D) The individual is lying
Why these assumptions? Because running is a sweaty, tiring, nasty affair that doesn't involve fun or a ball. So when I say, "running is one of my favorite things", I don't necessarily expect anyone to really believe me. But it's true. I like the quiet in the mornings. Just me, my shoes, and the road. I like the time to think. I like pushing myself. I like blazing past the old ladies jogging on the running trail. I like competing. I like winning. I just really like running.
I wasn't always into running. A lesson most people learn quickly in life is to capitalize on your natural abilities, be it musical, athletic, or intellectual. I ignored that lesson for a solid 13 years, dabbling in basketball, backyard football, and trampoline wrestling. Eventually I realized (read: got owned enough to finally accept) that my imposing stature and build were not conducive to success in contact sports. Distance running became my de facto forte. The perfect sport for little guys composed of 99% slow twitch muscles, without the spandex of swimming. Not to toot my own horn, but I was good at it. High school and undergrad were filled with glory days on the track, cross country, and marathon course.
Then medical school hit. Slogging through page after page of medical text + long hours on the wards = distracted, tired, out of shape, and not running. I didn't consistently run for almost three years. I needed a jump start. I owe the thanks to my siblings, who unknowingly recharged my running batteries by handily destroying me in a run last Thanksgiving. There is nothing quite as motivating as brotherly competition.
So I've re-embraced running. It feels good to lace up the shoes again and pound out the miles. It's like getting reacquainted with an old friend. The sore muscles and sweaty socks are almost cathartic. Yesterday I had my first real race in a long time. It was short, just a 5K. But I had a blast, and ran well. Nothing like the glory days, but it is a start. On the horizon is a 1/2 marathon in September. And I'll say it again. Running is still one of my favorite things.
3. Post race (flashing my place, not a C-bus gang sign)