And we ran

I came late in life to running, later to organized running and as racer, am days old.


3 weeks ago, after a hideous, hot, hung-over mid-Sunday 7 mile run along a dusty (turtle-dotted) canal during which I hadn't died, I decided to be a bit more serious. And so began a double-time training that culminated just a bit before 11am on Saturday morning with the finish of a half marathon, meters beyond Tavern on the Green in Central Park.

Ruslan, Nadine, John, Anka and I ran Grete's Gallop (Norwegian-themed, either to specifically shout-out multiple marathon-winning Norwegian woman? a Nordic bottler? or so that earlier kids event could be called Trolls Stroll.)


I learned:

Late again, now I grasp: the payoff of the day-in-day-out of just showing up and doing. I began running (c/o R) a few years ago. The first hundred runs weren’t that fun, the afterglow was the thing. Much more recently and without hoopla, the runs just got, well, simpler. All of a sudden it wasn't the labored breathing, the cursing of far lampposts and second-guessing of miles – now strength issued from some un-introduced core being and only my legs' capacity and bouts of tedium were imposing limits.

I no longer feared hills.
I crossed the running-for-an-hour threshold.
I found stillness in the forward motion.
I felt the near (working on it) limitless strength of my own body to just go, and then go on some more.
I joined - first time in forever - a group and was buoyed by it, didn't chafe or become malformed by the contact.
And I wore tiny pink shorts amidst thousands, and would again.

Thank you to friends, Dad (fellow soloist) and Sarah for support + spirit and Nadine for pushing protein drinks and, by example, okaying chocolate too.

love + runs
c