Why I Run

With the new year come new hopes and aspirations. As I stated last time, I have applied to graduate school, something that for me represents a new challenge as an individual. I hope that I will learn and grow, but also try my hand at something that I feel has great value to the world as a whole. Corny and cliched? Maybe. But it feels good.

As I also stated last time, self-doubt has crept in. Will I be good enough to be accepted? What if I don't? Will I be stuck doing something I don't want to forever? How will I pursue what I want to pursue? What can I do to keep growing, develop skills, and find my next great adventure?

Naturally, all of this is a bit scary. Self-doubt is incredibly crippling. If you allow yourself to be overcome by negative thoughts posed by others or more often by yourself, it is very often that those doubts become reality, a never-ending spiral into dark places. It becomes so tough to escape and easily seeps into the other areas of your life: relationships, day-to-day activities, and your overall health. It is terrible to be caught in this trap and I wondered how I would ever be able to persevere.

Until I started to think about running.

People often ask me why I run. Usually its a very indirect question such as, why would you ever want to run that far? Some people will try to talk about the dangers of running or the joints I'll have to replace as a deterrent, but I am too far into it to stop. The truth is that I run for a lot of different reasons, and the more I run, the more those reasons change and grow.

When I first started running I was a person who believed that running was only good if you could chase a ball. If there were no reason to run, what was the point? It seems silly that we would want to run for miles and miles with no real reason other than to do it. How is it possible?

My first race I trained for was a 5K with the intent of finishing. At the time, running a mile brought up terrible memories of high school gym class, huffing around the track. Running 3.1 miles was just crazy. But, when I started, it was simply because I knew other people who had run a 5K and thought, 'I want to do that too.' It started as a means to accomplishment.

After that race I felt pretty good. I realized that a 5K wasn't that bad. I was tired, but I also recall thinking about that one place where I stopped running for a few moments. I thought about how I could have started a little slower to run the entire time. I could have run faster, harder, better.

So I decided to do another race. And another. And increase the distance. And soon I recognized that I wanted to one day do a marathon. And I wanted to do a marathon before I started my 'real life' because I wanted to have a sense of accomplishment. So I decided that I would do the Bayshore Marathon in May of my senior year of college. Mostly because I wanted to say I had run a marathon.

Marathon training is hard work. I started training around Christmas for the race in May, running nearly every day. With every race I run, I always sign-up before the training begins. I do this not because I'm worried of getting a spot in the race, but because with the cost of a non-refundable entry fee, I am obligated to train.

Training for a spring race in Michigan means fighting the biting cold in January and February, running when its dark, running on ice and snow, and wearing multiple layers upon layers to log those miles. It isn't always fun and there are many days it seems downright crazy.

But, the truth is that there will always be an excuse if you let there be. I could have said that it was too dark, I was too tired, it was too cold to go running. But, I knew that when March rolled around it would be too windy. And in April it would be too muddy. And when the race came in May, I wouldn't be ready.

So, I ran every day. I ran increasing miles. I ran even though I was taking 17 credit hours, president of the largest organization on campus, actively involved on 2 other boards, participating in Alternative Spring Break, and working about 15 hours a week. To say my schedule was packed is an understatement.

Training for a marathon requires logging miles. But, the truth is that the hardest part of a marathon is not the distance. The hardest part of the marathon is the voice in your head that says you can't do it. The hardest part is the people who say you can't do it. The hardest part is that time when you are tired, and worn, and the work you are doing is hard, but you push through. The training is there to remind you that you CAN do it and have in fact, trained to do it.

Today I have accomplished 2 full marathons, 3 half marathons, and have a full scheduled in June and am contemplating a half in April. I fully intend on running a half or full marathon in every state before I turn 50. I intend on doing this because running, for me, is a wonderful metaphor for life.

As self-doubt tries to cripple me before my first big life decision, I remind myself of running.

Running is accomplishment. Running is attitude. Running is tenacity and determination. Running is meditation. Running is perseverance.

That is why I run. I run to remind myself that I can. I can run those extra miles. I can get up in the morning. I can pack my schedule with life. I can persevere through the hardest times.

We all run a marathon in life. Sometimes it is a bit of hard work. Sometimes we just don't want to get up in the morning. We have a choice, though. We've already signed up for the race. We can either train for it, or watch as the race passes us by. But you'll always regret not running the race. You will never regret the hard work it took to accomplish your goals.