The Difference a Year Makes

I got to go running on Saturday.  After my first treatment with Dr. Brian on Friday, I had orders to go run.  I woke up on Saturday morning to a gorgeous blue sky and perfect running weather.  I strapped on my Garmin, threw on my visor and set off out the door for 2 glorious miles!

Dr. Brian had said, “No more than 2 miles and definitely not PR pace.”  Such a tease, but at least it was something.  I was ecstatic.  A little nervous about how it would go, but so excited and hopeful.

I ran my usual route from my front door, around the lake and out to the entrance of the neighborhood.  I got all the way to Schnuck’s before I hit the mile mark and had to turn around.  Usually at that point of the course I cross the overpass and run west along the Wildwood path.  Usually that is where my run is just getting started.

At the same time I was out for my run, several of my friends were getting ready to run a race over at Castlewood.  I had handed my bib off to my friend Jen since I knew it was out for me.  I’d rather have someone run in my place and enjoy the experience than have the bib go to waste.  You might remember last February I had to bail on a race I really wanted to run.  Strangely, this was the exact same race, a year later. Last year there had been permit issues so they had changed the date of the race to a day that didn’t work for me.  I took the refund for my race entry fee and I pouted like it was going out of style.  Remember that?

This year was totally different scenario.  Being injured for the last month meant there was no way this was a good idea.  This race has eluded me yet again.  And yet, somehow, this year, I was totally and completely at peace with it.  Maybe it’s that I know that it could be detrimental to my health.  Maybe it’s that I have a long term goal that has priority in my race calendar.  Or maybe, it’s that I’m just in a completely different place than I was a year ago.

The other night while I was at work, I had some down time and I was doing research.  By that I mean I was flipping through the new Triathlete magazine.  I found an article about Nicole Gross, marathon coach and Ironwoman.  Nicole had been situated near the finish line of the Boston Marathon last year waiting for her mom to cross when the first bomb went off.  Along with her husband and sister, she sustained some major injuries.  She has been working hard over the past year in physical therapy to undo the damage that was done.  But what struck me was this quote, “I have been forced to have a new perspective on life, but also have a sense of grounding where there is more to life than identifying myself as an athlete.  I am learning to enjoy things a lot more and not having to put that added pressure on myself.”  As it should be.

So, on my run back home on Saturday, I just appreciated being outside, under that blue sky, the sun shining, my fingers and ears cool from the slight nip that was hanging in the air.  I didn’t get to compete on Saturday.  And I have another race that I have to give up again in a couple weeks.  A race that I was even more excited about.  But there will be other races.  And as a Cubs fan, I’m already very familiar with the words, “Maybe next year…”  I used to live in a way that screamed, “I have to do it all right NOW!”  But now my life is so full, that I know I am exactly where I am supposed to be.  Everything else that comes along is just gravy.

As I neared my house, my two miles almost up, I felt great.  I felt like I could run forever.  Which likely had something to do with the fact that I was running a significantly slower pace than usual.  But I followed doctor’s orders and cut it off before I hit 2 miles.  As I stepped back onto my driveway, my Garmin read 1.99.  Every runner knows that you always run up and down your street 15 times if you have to in order to end on a whole number.  But I didn’t feel the need to do that this time.  My run was over and that was ok.

I smiled the whole day because of that run.  I told everyone I saw that I got to run.  I couldn’t have asked for a better “first run” back.

Today I went back in to see Dr. Brian for another treatment.  Funny that I could hear Steve in the waiting room when I came out.  And when I texted Diana to tell her I had crossed paths with Steve, she informed me that she crossed paths with him on the other side of his visit.

Why do we do this?  Why do we push our bodies so hard that we all end up in the doctor’s office together?  I can’t speak for all my friends, but I can tell you the reason that I do.  Because I can.  And for that, I am grateful.  Running helps me find perspective, it keeps me grounded.  Sure it has something to do with competition and camaraderie and constant improvement.  But more than anything, running reminds me to enjoy life.

It’s funny to look back at the year behind me and see someone who placed so much emphasis on the races and the added mileage, that’s what I needed to call myself a “runner”.  I used to think that for me a run wasn’t a “real” run unless I went at least 3 or 4 miles.  I have doctor’s orders to go run another 2 miles tomorrow and again on Wednesday.  And I couldn’t be happier.  Because I love to run, and that is what makes me a runner.

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