Ruminations On A Friday Night

First off, it's just funny to be completely sober on a Friday night. Went to the fair with Stephanie, Maya, and Maya's friend, nice little family time. It's a little disconcerting to feel a change in my thoughts, in that I now enjoy taking my time while driving, not just for safety, but out of some strange feeling of parental responsibility. And I'm not even a parent!

But anyway, to the heart of my desire to write, running. It's still somewhat strange to me, to be a runner. To have dedicated running attire. Wicking shirts, specialized socks, running shorts. Not just basketball shorts, actual running shorts. In high school, my brother was the runner. I saw no reason for it. The only race that I'm aware of him entering, the Manchester Road Race, he completed in 38:05, when he was 17. That was the first race I ever entered, when I was 21, and I did it in 46:33. He averaged a 7:57 mile, I did a 9:43. Talk about getting your ass kicked!

But there's something more to running, I've come to believe. Most people who enter a 5K, 10K, half or full marathon, they don't expect to win. Nor should they. Some are just seeking to place in their age group, acknowledging that time is taking a toll on their bodies. But others are just looking for self improvement (and maybe a cool shirt). I've started to enjoy running more for the inner aspects of it, rather than the outer. The moments that matter the most to me are those precious seconds when my legs are loose, my breathing measured, and my stride long. When I go from running next to Stephanie to pulling past her, without any slowing down on her part, or actual effort on mine. We ran last night and I had that happen about 2.5 miles in to a 5 mile run. My pace dropped below an 8:00/mi, and yet I didn't feel like I was pushing it. I was just utilizing my natural leg length.

That's what keeps me coming back, those moments when the running feels easy and I feel free. I seek out trails to run not just because of the challenge and variety they create, but because it's easier to feel free without the constant humming of traffic. To believe for that little bit of time that it's just you and the trail. I'm sure you can achieve that feeling for a longer period of time out West, or even around here in the rural areas.

It's the same feeling I used to get from golf. I enjoyed it most when it was just me, the club, and the ball. No competition, no external pressure, just my own internal contest. I have no problem walking during a run, because when I do it, it's a choice, not necessity. I'm training my body to go longer distances, and that requires taking it easy some times. I've had guys comment "you hung with us for that first mile" when they don't realize that I could have kept going, but I chose to take a break, usually because I've already run 3 or 4 miles before they showed up, and I've got 3 or 4 more to go.

One of my favorite books, which addresses the impressionable nature of the golfing public, speculates on why people love golf so much. It concludes that it isn't the setting, the battle against nature, or the variety of skills it calls for. Instead, it's the variable nature of it all, the same reason that Tiger Woods doesn't win every time, but can still put together rounds that wow everyone around him. On any given day, he can put together a nearly perfect round of golf. He may never birdie every hole, but if he plays the course enough times, he will have a birdie or better recorded on each hole. The thing is, that's also true for the average golfer. For some, it may be to par every hole. But everyone has the possibility. It starts on the first tee box, before the ball is even struck.
And the same can apply to running. I pull in to the parking lot, stretch, and get ready, and this could be a perfect run. My lungs could be clear, my strides firm, my splits negative, everything is possible. I'm not going to run a 4:00 mile or 15:00 5K, but I can cover a stretch of ground faster than previous, or with less effort. There's something beautiful about running for the sake of running, doing it for your own enjoyment, marveling at the beauty of how our bodies work, how we can rapidly cover difficult terrain without busting our asses (most of the time).

Yes, I realize that can be at odds with the idea of inner competition, trying to outdo yourself, but some days, I'm running with a goal, and other days, I'm running just to feel alive, to fight through the wind in my face, feel the sweat run over my eyes, and keep pushing, wondering what is beyond that next bend.