When I told Michael I was running another half this weekend, he just laughed. "You're crazy, especially for someone who claims to hate running…" Despite his comment, as someone who knows me well, I have no doubt in my mind that he was not surprised at all.
My relationship with running is absolutely a love/hate relationship. Running is hard. It is extremely challenging for me. For a girl who, for the most part, things come pretty easily to, especially in the world of athletics, running is just plain tough. I'm not built to run. I don't have the muscle fiber makeup of a runner. Physiologically speaking, I can change some of that through my training, but in the end, I am always going to be primarily made up of type II muscle fibers that will take over at any chance they get. It's never going to get easy for me.
Entering my 10th week of serious running, it has changed my life. I constantly think about what I'm putting into my body more than ever. I need all of the help I can get. I've never wanted to sleep in longer more than I do now, despite the fact that I'm sleeping more than ever. I've never truly thought about that second beer, or really considered the fact that what I eat today, may make my workout in the morning absolutely miserable. Being a successful strength athlete is a completely different beast than becoming a runner.
But that's why I do it. When I'm running, especially alone on those long miles where thoughts of giving up overwhelm your entire body, yet for some reason you just keep going…there's not a feeling like that. If you can push yourself for hours on end at a time, physically and mentally, you set yourself up to be successful in absolutely anything life has to bring to you. Running, is one of the greatest gifts I have brought into my life. I am forever indebted to it.
And so, I will keep running.
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