Listening to my legs

I am dedicating this post to Mikey, my running yogi.  I was going to say running coach, but that would imply that we've actually run in each other's presence.  I really only talk with him about running and read his blog.  He's just too damn fast for me to run with.

A few things to note before I get into the full point of my story.  First of all, I have never considered myself a runner. This is despite the fact that I have run for fun, in races, or for team sports my entire life.  I ran cross country in middle school and early high school, played varsity sports my whole academic career, and have finished several marathons, half-marathons and plenty of 5ks. And yet, I never thought I was a true runner. You know, one of those people who don't think a day is complete without a jog, those wiry types who wins races.

Part of the reason behind this could be that I'm extremely slow when I run.  And this could be because I'm both overweight and have asthma (I don't know what my excuse was when I was thin and didn't have asthma, but let's just overlook that minor detail).  I also have herniated disks in my back and have been told that running is not a good idea, especially long distances, which is what I prefer to do. At one point in my running career, I even switched to race walking to reduce the impact on my back and still be able to go longer distances.  And no self-respecting runner would ever do the waddle walk when a perfectly good run could be had.

So there you have it. I'm not a runner. And yet ... I find myself more and more loving running.  About a year-and-a-half ago, when I was training for a race, I had a series of dreams where I was out for a mid-afternoon jog. The sunlight was coming through the trees, the path was wide and flat in front of me, and I was happy as could be in each dream.  I would wake up and really want to go for a run. And funny thing is, I had a great time doing it.  When I didn't get a run in for whatever reason during that time, I felt a little itchy and would get out as soon as I could.

Fast forward to this year, when I fell and broke a bone in my leg and spent several months not running or half-running/walking with rehab thrown in.  I felt like a lard (and was) and could feel my asthma in every day activities. But the worst part was that I wasn't right in my head.  I wasn't happy that I couldn't go out for a trot without pain.  I wasn't spending quality time with my dog either. It was just bad.  It dawned on me, perhaps, I actually am a runner.

So what does this have to do with listening to my legs?  Now that I've been given clearance to run again, I've signed up for a half marathon.  As I've been running, I've been feeling my asthma in a bad way and every hill I hit is like a slap in the face (well, really the lungs).  On multiple occasions, I've stopped to walk up a hill simply because I couldn't get a complete breath and my lungs burned.  At those moments, I would hear that nagging, negative voice creep in that maybe I'm not a runner after all. I'm too slow, I stop to walk too easily, I don't have the will power to get through the pain.  (Anyone with asthma will understand this is not always an option, but tell that to the voice in my head.)

Gloriously, today, I had a breakthrough. Today, I decided to just run slowly. The whole time.  And I decided that rather listen to my lungs, which often tell me to stop, I would listen to my legs, which are the things that move me forward and very rarely hurt.  So today, I just hit every uphill stretch very slowly, evenly pacing myself on the downhills as well.  My lungs didn't hurt once.  It was pouring rain, the dog was at my side, and I don't think I've had a better run in months.  Best of all, I shaved 3 minutes off my normal time for this particular route (a minute a mile) because I didn't walk and felt the high at the end of my run that I only usually get after longer ones.

So from now on, I will be listening to my legs.  I'll keep telling myself that slow and steady wins the race. Why? Because I am a runner.