So, for those of you who don’t know, I am planning on walking/running (read: mainly walking) the Peachtree Road Race next week – my first ever 10K. My first ever race event. Really, it’s my first ever activity alongside other people of a competitive nature that has to do anything with walking and/or running. The fact that it’s a 10K is just a little ridiculous to me, the most extreme of running novices. But hey, I was extended the challenge and took it.
Since mid-April, I’ve been trying to prepare for the race by using a treadmill (pretty much for the first time consistently in my life) and balancing it out with the elliptical and stationery bike on the days I need less impact. I’ve kept up my yoga to stretch out those aching muscles, and I’ve kept up with rock climbing because, well, I love it (mainly because it has nothing to do with running.)
If you know me, you know that I pretty much never run for anything. I think I ran a mile during high school or college when it was required for P.E. I ran down a long gravel driveway to someone’s house once when a car was stuck out front on their train tracks and it was a dire emergency to move it before another train passed. Other than that, I don’t really have many recollections of running. It’s just something I’ve never pursued or been interested in.
But running taught me something today.
First a little background. For most of my training, I have been indoors at the gym and have only recently begun running and walking outdoors in the humidity. The gym is great because I can time my workout around the 4-5pm hour of Friends and watch while I run, all with a cool breeze at my back from the oscillating fan. If I get bored with the TV, I can watch the rock climbers and learn from them or poke fun in my mind (you know you would too). Most of all, running at the gym is great because I don’t have to think about it – the treadmill is moving, so my feet are going, and I can zone out. I can watch how many calories I burn and how many miles I’ve run, adjust the pace, and even measure my heart rate. Granted, I now have an iPhone app that can do most of those things too, but running outdoors has proven to be an entirely different experience.
I ran outdoors for the first time a week and a half ago at my parents’ house in Tennessee, where the route was full of hills and the humidity was enough to make you choke. I did 2 miles the first day and 3 the second. This last week, I ran and walked almost 7 miles (my goal before next week’s 10K) close to my home. I found myself running, jogging, walking, and in general just befuddled about how long it took me to complete the journey (2 hours). I missed my treadmill and oscillating fan.
But today, I went back to that same trail, and I learned something about myself. Instead of watching the numbers on the treadmill go up by the hundredth of a mile and knowing what I was capable of, I learned to pace myself in terms of distance. It was hard. I would start at one point and look forward to the point I wanted to reach, and something inside me screamed “get there!” I found myself giving it my all and burning out quickly. Then there was a clap in my brain that reminded me how long it would take me to get there if I was on the treadmill. Pace. So THAT is the key to long distance running! I questioned this lightbulb moment, thinking, am I really running if I’m just bobbing up and down at 5 miles per hour?? Then, as if whispered from the trees, the phrase came to mind: slow and steady wins the race.
Now, I’m not out to win the Peachtree. (HA!) But I am out to accomplish this goal of mine, that is, of a non-runner running and walking 6.2 miles in 80 degree heat and humidity with 60,000 other people who for some reason “love” the “sport” called “running.” So, slow and steady goes it. I found myself reaching greater distances, even slowing down on the declines to keep the same pace. And I found that I could run much farther than I thought.
All this is probably obvious to most folks. But for me, it was eye-opening. I realized that I often want to “seize” things in life by running at them full force until I attain them. Some call that passion, zest, or being feisty. In long-distance running, I call it stupidity. So, in my 5 miles today, I had time to reflect, and I learned that pacing myself might actually get me to where I most want to go in life. I need only to take my time.
“Do you not know that those who run in a race all run, but only one receives the prize? Run in such a way that you may win. And everyone who competes in the games exercises self-control in all things. They then do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable. Therefore, I run in such a way, not as without aim; I box in such a way, as not beating the air; but I buffet my body and make it my slave, lest possibly, after I have preached to others, I myself should be disqualified.”
1 Corinthians 9:24-27 (It may sound contradictory.. but it’s not 
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