I am a runner. When people ask me what I do for a living,
that is the first thing that comes to mind and only then what I actually do to
support my lifestyle. I identify as a runner before I identify as anything else
because running (physically and metaphorically) is at the heart and soul of all
other activities that occupy my day. That is not to say that the only thing
that I think, dream, eat, and breath is running, in fact that couldn't be
farther from the truth, but the lessons learned on the long tiring runs, and during
short burst workouts can be applied just as much to life as they can be applied
to running itself.
When I first started running, I ran for fat lose, I didn't
run for me. I hated every step and every mile, I was a slave to the ideal body
image that I had in my head and to the coveted single digit body fat
percentages. I was lost, I had no idea what I was doing, I kept hurting myself
for minimal amounts of gain and ended up with more body fat then I originally
started with. I was making the same mistakes that every single female makes when
they decide to become active: do minimal amounts of lifting and maximum cardio.
I was on that treadmill for hours burning muscle and fat, tearing my joints,
and then coming home and overeating thinking that I deserved it.
Fast forward a few years of damaging fitness habits, emotional
eating, lowered self esteem, I decided that enough was enough. I really buckled
down, did my research and began an actual journey to a better me. Earlier this
spring I wrote a post about my very first race and the inspiration, the support,
and the love that I felt. That was the time when I knew that running was for
me, but it wasn't the time when I began identifying as a runner.
The first time that I thought of myself as a runner was when
my life was in an even bigger rut then it had before. Those were very dark
times for me mentally and emotionally and I had nowhere left to hid and almost
no one left to talk to. There are only so many motivational texts you can read
and therapy sessions that you can attend before they start losing effect and
become yet another unnecessary annoyance. There was a day when I was simply
lost in the darkness of my own negativity and a tailspin of "why me?"
when a surprising thought rang clear as day in the back of my mind: "you are
strong, you are a runner, weak people can't do what you do, push through".
The irony is, those were the exact same words I kept saying when I hit a wall
at the end of a very tough race that I ran a few month prior. There I sat on
the floor of my bathroom with a roll of toilet paper by my side, eyes swollen
from hours of crying, stunned.
There is a point in every runners life, when they are
reduced to a state of absolute primal being. You are no longer a person, you
are no longer yourself, you are an instinct, a set of basic and yet a very
complex functions. You can't think, you can't process information (at least not
the kind of information that does not pertain to the task at hand, moving your
feet forward), the only thing that you can comprehend is that failure is not an
option, that the finish line is coming and when you finally cross it, you get
to collapse into a tiny pile of mortal flesh and embrace the post run cheering
and pain that will inevitably come. The good pain that comes sweetened with the
notion of ultimate achievement and the best tasting bagel ever! It is during
the primal state that the "chant"
or the mantra comes in for me.
I guess somewhere between being mad at the unfairness of the
world and beginning to cry my eyes out, I allowed the situation I was in to reduce
myself to nothing more than a breathing organism and the autopilot kicked in.
The runners autopilot: "you are strong, you are a runner, weak people
don't do what you do, push through...". The realization of the fact that I thought of
myself as a runner for the first time while I was feeling sorry for myself on
the bathroom floor shocked me like and
ice bath. Whatever my problem was before
that realization, did not matter. I was a runner and I could push through. I
pick myself up, washed my face, put on my running gear and went for a very long
run. I was cured.
From that day forward, regardless of discomfort, nerves,
stress, or pain, there is only one answer: Go Run! The endurance that I learned
though running allowed me to confidently press through my daily issues with
less to no fear because I know what I am capable of physically and spiritually,
I am no longer afraid to be afraid. The focus that I learned through running
propels me towards my goals each and every hour of each and every day and I am
that much more productive. Relentless desire to "cross the finish
line" and runner stubbornness to keep pushing despite the odds helped me
pursue some of the strangest and almost unrealistic goals. However, the most
important lesson that I learned from running is to keep pushing through the up hills,
because at the top of that hill, the downhill begins and I get to rest,
recharge, and tackle the next hill renewed, stronger, more resilient than ever.
