Why Do I Run?

Why do I run? As you prepare to run what may be your final race of the season, you may or may not examine your own reasons for running. Be warned, some of this may sound Debbie Downer to you. But, I hope it may inspire you, too!

Let me take you through my timeline of running. I remember my first race. I remember what I was wearing. Of course it was a hand me down from my oldest sister, already an established runner. It said, "Runner, runner, runner" in an orange and yellow rainbow. It was probably a Nike shirt. I also had on a pair of hand me down running shorts, terrible shoes, and my glasses. I was in 5th grade running my first road race. It was a 2K, and I was scared out of my mind. But, I was also excited. Now I can't remember how I finished or if I won an award or anything. But I can remember that I was disappointed in how I finished. So, I was determined to train more for the next year. Did I? I don't remember, but I do know that it made me want to train for track and field day in 6th grade.

That was my 2nd foray into the running world. My sister was already, as I said, an established, somewhat of a small town hero, high school runner. When I was in 6th grade, she was a junior in High School. She had already gone to state in track and field 4 times and cross country 4 times. She achieved her fifth time, not long after my epic track and field day fail.

Every day of my elementary school career I walked past the track and field day record board outside the elementary gym where Miss Ulmer held court. Every day, I saw my sister's name under the record for the 600 yd run. Every day, I wanted that record. So, I trained...a little....a very little. I visualized myself on that awards podium every night as a fell asleep. I thought I could pull it off, but sadly...I couldn't. And I was disappointed. It doesn't matter that I won the long jump for the 2nd year in a row, or that my 4x100 team had done well (after much 6th grade drama), I had failed myself.

So, I decided to go out for 7th grade cross country. And, if a person ran 100 miles over the summer, that person would earn a tshirt that said "Century Club." That was my goal. I'd like to say I made it, but alas, I think I covered something like 62 miles that summer.

I did well my 7th grade CC season, and in fact placed first in my very first JH race in 7th grade at Ortonville. I even ran a few varsity meets. I probably should have lettered and thought I was going to do so. But, at the banquet, there was no asterisk next to my name denoting me as a letter winner.

I considered volleyball, but truly, I was terrible at that sport. So, I decided to go with CC again. Every year after that I lettered. I was determined to be better. I knew that I might aspire to be as talented and accomplished as my oldest sister, but that I was not as runningly gifted as she. I made the Century Club every year, I ran hard, made my school's honor rolls. I even placed 10th at Regions my senior year in Redwood. This was a course that I still think of as the hardest I have ever run. I was thrilled with 10th place, but only two things marred my accomplishment. First, the top 6 advanced to State (which was later changed to the top 10, and still is different today), and one of my teammates who was picked to go, didn't make it in. Most of my high school career, in fact, I hated running. It was a chore. Something that caused me anxiety, stress and fear.

Track was a little different, more team oriented. I made it to state two years in relays. Some of that was joyful, some of that was not. My junior year at Osseo was great. We medaled and it was thrilling. My senior year at Blaine was filled with angst and disappointment, even though we medaled. I remember that I CHOSE not to run an open event in Districts because I thought it would help our relay team to advance. Looking back, I can see that I CHOSE to run only relays because my psyche really couldn't handle individual disappointment.

It wasn't until I didn't HAVE to run, that I was able to find joy in running.

I watched my sister collapse at a couple of meets, since then I've watched numerous HS girls collapse from exhaustion, poor nutrition, high expectations, and stress. And I'm sure people look at them and think....WHY DO YOU RUN!?

And, I have asked myself that question numerous times. I have taken hiatuses from running, I have quit running with a watch, I have quit racing. But, now, at 41, still I run. Why?

I will tell you. Running has been one thing that has been truly constant in my life since literally the age of 10. Running has inspired me, motivated me, disappointed me, cheered me, angered me, sustained me.

I run when I am happy. I run when I am mad. I run to celebrate. I run when I am frustrated. I run when I am sad.

Running now gives me joy, peace, stress relief, thinking time, time alone, time with nature, time with the spirit....time.

Why do I run? Because three steps into a run, I feel....well.....I feel better! I feel like things are right in my world again. I feel strong, healthy and fit. I feel accomplished. I feel like myself.

Now, as I coach cross country and track and field I run because of my athletes. I run so that they can see that you actually still CAN run over the age of 40. I run to show them that I feel their pain during the mile repeats, the hills, or the long run. I run so that they know that I know how frustrating it can be to not be physically able to achieve what you want to achieve. I run because, to them, I am the fun police. I run so they are not alone.

Mostly, I run because I can. And I will continue to run, in spite of those who think I'm crazy.

Collecting My Way

If you read my previous post, you know that my number one son's collections drive me a bit crazy. I like things orderly (although you might not guess that if you visit my house). When I vacuum, it makes me feel better. A clean purse, makes me think more clearly. I know it's unfortunately rubbing off on my kids when my number two son spends his play time at night cleaning up his room because "I don't want you to be stressed out." I feel chastened, but a little bit proud when we cuddle in his spotless room.

When I was a kid, I was a bit of a collector. I collected stuffed animals, Holly Hobby dolls, and Garfields. My husband collected baseball cards and basketball cards that he plans to share with our boys as they grow older. Much to his chagrin, I've also discovered his binder of scratch and sniff stickers and Garbage Pail Kids. It reminds me of the little boy (her number two) that drove his mom a little crazy, but yet managed to snake his way into her heart permanently.

My husband - still a collector - saves Husker memorabilia, ticket stubs, jerseys. Me? not so much. My family thinks I'm hard to buy for because I'm not a collector or saver. I throw away my kids' school papers (but save art projects) and birthday cards.

My mom gave me an article last summer on collecting, ostensibly to help me understand my collecting son. But, something from that article resonated with me. It said...collect what you love. Well, what do I love? My husband, my kids, my family, food, shopping, running....you get the picture. I love things that aren't simply collectible.

So, this became what I call a niggle. Something I think about and ruminate about and something that just sits in the back of my mind until I figure it out. What do I collect, what should it be, what, what, what.

The answer came to me on a warm night in July on the shores of Lake Carlos. It had been a near perfect summer day. We spent the afternoon on the pontoon, enjoying conversation and sun. We had stopped at Bug A Boo Bay and had happy hour and I was relaxing on the beach soaking inthe last of the day's rays. I watched Ben and his over 70 year old Nanny snorkeling in the shallow waters of the lake, swimming a little, standing up and having conversation, gesturing to each other and snorkeling again. It was then that I thought "I love THIS. THIS is what I want to collect."

So, it was decided. I was going to collect moments. Since then, I've collected many moments. It's those happenings that you want to freeze, those that you want to remember forever. There were many this summer. Summer is often when I have the time to appreciate the little moments and not rush through them like the daily to do list.

Lyndee catching fireflies in her brother's hulk costume, sporting a messy ponytail...
Finishing a 10 mile race with Matty while his dad cheered us on....
Endless snuggles in bed.....family cuddle time determined by my husband, the ultimate cuddler....
Gabe's grand slam homerun in 2nd grade baseball when he jumped in the air after crossing homeplate, his joy palpable to all those who witnessed it....
Playing in the woods with my kiddos, after they had already been there for hours...
Tossing bean bags at my mom's, merlot in hand, while my daughter hugs and laughs my mom with great joy.....
Giggles of Lyndee as she rides a two wheeler for the first time....
A campfire with my sister, brother in law, and nephews - till 2 am.....
Watching my nephew/Godson graduate from HS....
Hanging out on the new patio, drinking a peach dacquiri with my mother-in-law....
Visiting the zoo with the kids on my own....
Helping my sister move in to her WI home, after being gone from the States for 22 years....
The hot, hot, hot wedding of two dear friends....
Going to the Douglas Saloon with my sister-in-law and my hubby....
Any moment when I catch my oldest reading a chapter book, or my middle son searching out bugs and nature, or any time my daughter is dramatic about something.....
Hanging out at the pool while our kids swim and we hold hands....
The fireworks and good friends in Park Rapids...

I'd say my collection is growing daily. And I do love these moments. In the hustle and bustle of mid-life, I forget to hold on to these. They are fleeting. As every parent/grandparent tells me. ENJOY the time when your kids are little, it goes so fast. And yes, it does. But, I will put these moments in my memory jar and remember that while the days may be long, time is short. Love it and don't forget to live it.