My Marriage with Running

Running and I have been in a relationship since I was in middle school. I joined the middle school cross-country team and fell for the sport immediately. (For those of you reading this saying “running isn’t a sport” then you’re wrong and we are moving on) I was never very good in middle school and really became serious about running in High school.

Natural physical abilities and athleticism never came natural to me, I always had to work for my success. Running was no different. Consistently pushing myself harder than most in practice to see only minor gains. Running taught that hard work and patience can accomplish the goals I set for myself. I was able to develop into a solid 5th runner on my High school team. The 5th runner is the last place able to count towards the team total. It is a very important position, as it could make or break the outcome of a meet. I embraced my position seriously, fighting for every spot on the course and claimed great pride in my results. Despite all that I accomplished, I still had enormous self-doubt in my abilities. All of the literally blood, sweat, tears and post-race vomit were never good enough. I would wrestle with this voice throughout my high school career.

I did not run collegiate cross-county because my alma-mater did not offer the sport when I attend. A few years off of serious running left me somewhat out of shape but not missing the sport I loved so much. The monotonous effort of running day in and out never resounded with me. My love for running was miss-placed, I was more in love with competing than running and I just happened to be a good runner. Without the competition, I had no need for running.

For a sport where your biggest rival is you and competing against your previous time just never motivated me. For the first time I can admit that publicly.

I feed off of the need to line up next to my friends and absolutely destroy them over the course of 10 plus miles.

There is no greater high that I have experienced than knowing I’m the faster runner period.

I found my competition once again in the form of the running club at my pharmacy school. I was there to learn and develop into pharmacist but along the way I re-discovered running. The club was hosted by one of our professors, who would go on to become my main competition. The main focus of the club was to bring students together and train for the yearly broad street run. I was hooked instantly and knew from the outset that the 10 mile race down Broad street in the city of brotherly the first Sunday of May was going to be a yearly tradition.

For the next 10 years, I dominated the course beating my previous years PR and taking first in the running group. There was one bad year with hot temps and an aggressive start that did me in (curses younger brother for pushing me to hard at the start). I did not win that year and it was a rude awakening and only added fuel to my fire. After graduation, my professor claimed to have discovered a new pupil who would going to steal my title away from me. IT NEVER HAPPENED.

Mostly because I wouldn’t allow it to happened. I spent the cold winter months running daily even when it was below zero and snowing. (oddly those were my favorite runs….the cold air stinging my throat and lungs on every breathe was intoxicating). The main focus was having that championship belt placed around my waist, my fist raised high and being pronounced the champ in front of my peers. It was pure ecstasy.

Fast-forward to 2019 and the emerging news of the Corona virus coming out of the east. This event would go on to change our world, as this country came to a standstill so did the running community. Large groups of individuals breathing heavily in close proximity during a viral respiratory pandemic isn’t the greatest idea. Races were either canceled or postponed and stay at home orders kept most off of the streets and out of the gyms. This time period was difficult for me personally, I struggled greatly with my mental health and my running routine fell to the wayside.

I’m doing significantly better with my mental health struggles but the need to run has not returned. I have gone on some runs but they just feel different. There is no joy, no love and no want to be out there running. I’m not in the running shape I was pre-pandemic but I know the process to ramp back up to racing shape can be arduous. Lack of immediate results was not the issue with my running roadblock.

It hit me a few months ago when I decided I wanted to write this piece. My whole meaning and love for running was not restored, the races. Some still virtual (I’m not running a race on a different course with no other runners, I’m sorry it’s a dumb idea) while other races decided to move dates (which is less dumb but still not the same). Take my yearly tradition of the Broad Street run… the first Sunday of every May is dedicated to one event and one event only that being this race. However this year 2021, the race was moved to October which to me is not the Broad Street Run so I did not participate.

Hopefully, the world can correct itself soon and we can get back to normal racing but it doesn’t look promising. Until that time, I believe my relationship with running is over. Part of me is sad and misses the good times but the other and ever growing part doesn’t miss the pain and suffering that I once enjoyed and that scares me.