Remember Why You Love It

Sorry that I didn’t write my blog last week.  I had a good reason: I really didn’t have anything good to say. 

My blog serves sort of a circular purpose.  I started writing it because I wanted to show people that anyone can do absolutely anything.  The feedback I’ve gotten is that people feel very inspired (and also entertained, which was another purpose of my blog).  That makes me work harder so that I can write about it, which inspires people more.  I keep going so you can keep going, which keeps me going.  Win-win.

And that’s why there was no blog last week.  I did nothing inspirational.  Sure, I did my normal workouts: long runs, bike rides, a cardio sculpt class at the gym that was so intense that I couldn’t lift a tissue afterwards.  But there was nothing in them.  I wasn’t in them.  And writing a blog about just going through the motions and not really giving a crap didn’t seem very inspirational.

So, why am I writing about it now? Well, let’s get back to that circular logic from before, but from a Debbie Downer perspective.  If I don’t write, then I don’t help inspire people.  So, I feel no drive to do the work, which gives me nothing to write about.  Lose-lose.

Everyone gets in a rut.  We all have that thing that we love to do, but after a while we forget why we loved it so much.  We get bored, and that thing we loved so much gets less attractive.  Wow, this sounds like a lot of my romantic relationships (umm, except my husband Wil who is probably the only romantic partner I’ve had who actually reads these.  You rock, honey.  Love you!)

So, what do you do when you get in a rut?  What happens when the flame starts to sizzle out, when that relationship starts to get tedious (again, Wil, not you.  It’s all been one exciting moment after another for the last 19 years :-)?

Today I figured out the answer to that question.  This morning I did a 4 mile race in Central Park.  To be honest, it was kind of a pain in the ass.  I’ve started my training for the 2014 NY Marathon, which meant that I had to do my 9 mile long run during the week so that I could do a 4 miler on the weekend (and if you’re interested, running 9 miles before sitting down at a desk for 8 hours really sucks).  This run was #8 of the 9 I need to qualify for next year’s marathon.  Honestly, I’m not sure that I want to run next year’s marathon.  Hell, I’m not entirely sure that I want to run this year’s marathon.  But I keep thinking that some morning I will wake up and running and working out will once again become my drug of choice (along with caffeine) and my exercise addiction will start up again.  And if that happens, I need to be trained and get all my qualifying runs in. So there I was, at a pain in the ass 4 mile race in Central Park early on a humid Saturday morning.

I got there just before it started (and thank you to Metro North for having your second train of the day run 15 minutes late.  Nothing like being panicked before starting a run that you don’t really want to do).  I was only in my corral for a few minutes before the race started, and I started thinking about this race.  My first race ever was a four miler in the middle of July in Central Park 5 years ago. The race had a different name, but it was the same course.  I remembered how I felt that day.  I was nervous, but also so excited. I remembered looking around at the other people in my corral and thinking “wow, they all look like runners”.  I remembered struggling through the course, and the absolute rush of crossing a finish line for my very first time.  I remember leaving the park and realizing that I was a runner, too.

Brooklyn Marathon, 2013

And that’s why I love this so much.  It’s hard.  It’s time consuming.  It hurts, both body and mind, and sometimes even your heart.  But, it also makes you realize what you can do.  It gives you control, power and confidence.  It gives you a sense of accomplishment that you didn’t know was possible.

I did today’s race. I’ll be honest; I wasn’t swept off my feet.  Like any relationship that needs work, it can’t be fixed in an instant.  I started nervous and excited, but by mile two I was melting in the humidity and trying to talk myself out of continuing.  I oscillated between love and disdain, and in the end I finished with a 9:38 pace, my fastest race since 2011. More importantly, though, I started to remember why I love running. And I also had something to write about and a way to remind you that you can absolutely anything.  Just make sure you love it.