Why Do You Run?

Running is a somewhat odd activity. It's a selfish endeavor, and many of us leave our families for hours every day, plunging ourselves into an activity that benefits no one but ourselves. Sometimes we're helping a team or a running partner, but for the most part, it is something we do to satisfy our own desires. It's a financially draining sport. Sure, I win a little bit of money on the roads now and then, but that money doesn't even cover my shoes, let alone the rest of my gear, my race fees, or my running related medical bills. Even many professional runners aren't making enough to live, and they have to have another part-time job on the side. It's a punishing activity, bringing with it the physical pain of effort and injuries, and the mental anguish of heartbreak. Yet for whatever reason, we all continue to do it. So while you read this post, I'd like you to start thinking about the answer to the question: Why do you run?

Focus

Yesterday, I did a quality two hour trainer workout. As a grad student, I felt obliged to try to get some studying in during the workout. This was no problem during the warmup and some of the early steady state stuff. But as soon as the tempo and power intervals started, I found my focus changing to the workout itself. It was unconscious, and every time I tried to refocus on anatomy, no matter how hard I tried to focus on the rotator cuff and its innervation, within two seconds my mind was back to the workout, either monitoring cues from my body or focusing on my cadence and power.

Fail.

A couple days ago, I was on a run and my tendon sort of blew up. Total fail run. So I got an MRI, and the results came back with the following findings:
1) Partial tear of the distal posterior tibialis tendon. There is associated tenosynovitis.
2) Joint effusions at the ankle and in the subtalar joint.
3) Small area of signal abnormality in the posterior lateral dome of the talus which may be due to contusion or early osteochondritis dissecans.

The Middle Miles

Every race can be broken into three parts: the start, the middle, and the finish. The start is always an explosion of nerves, adrenaline, and excitement. The pace feels easy and you feel good. However, while too fast start can lose a race, the race is never won in the first mile. The finish is equally exciting. You can sense the line growing closer, the crowd is going wild, you're trying to catch the guy in front of you while simultaneously holding off whoever is behind you, and you need to hold on for just a...little...bit....more...! However, the races that are made or broken by the finish are usually tactical professional races with money on the line, or college track meets with a slow, strategic start. Then there are the middle miles. The miles where it hurts, but the finish is nowhere in sight. The lonely, solitary no man's land where the lead pack is out of sight, but there doesn't seem to be anyone behind you either. For most of us, this is where the race lies. This is where races are won and lost. This is the make or break point, where you decide whether you want to chase down that lead pack or go with that group that's slowly pulling away, or if you'd rather play it safe and let yourself fall back to your safety and comfort zone. It's also many times the hardest part of the race. It's a tough part of the race physically, but provided you put the training in, your body is ready for it. However, mentally, the middle miles can be pure punishment.

For me, the middle miles are the toughest part of the race. And not only are the middle miles the toughest part of a race, but they're often the toughest part of life, when the initial adrenaline rush of a new undertaking has worn off, but the finish is far enough away that the excitement brought on by knowing the end is near is nowhere to be found. It is there that motivation often flags, but it is there that I am determined to succeed. This blog will be a reminder of that promise.