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Why I Run

8 May

More than 30,000 people.

20+ mph winds.

A lap around the Indy 500 track.

An elephant at the zoo staring me down within the first 10 minutes.

Someone with grey hair braided down past their butt.

Elite athletes.

Obscene amounts of Gatorade.

Bands and cheerleaders.

Everyone going for the same goal, at widely varying paces.

That was the setting this morning for the half marathon I ran in Indianapolis.  I wish I had a story about how fantastic it was but, really, it wasn’t.  It was cold, it was incredibly windy (so much that I told my mom and sister not to come down with Aidan, because it would’ve been miserable for them) and my knees decided to act up on me right around mile two.  Yes, mile two.  Of 13.1.  Right around mile nine, as I was pushing against the wind, I was downright unhappy.  But the feeling of crossing the finish line is worth it, every single time.  Even though I kept my pace under two hours, I was disappointed in not being able to best my other half marathon time.  But the disappointment of not running as well as hoped never outweighs the thrill of finishing another race. 

Why do I do it, you ask?  Why do I subject myself to the unpleasant temperatures and pain and exhaustion?  This is why:

Shoes laced up, I take off.  In that moment it doesn’t matter that I’m a single mom.  I am not defined by my job or income.  I do not care what my hair looks like, if my running shorts match my top or if my appearance is pleasing to the eye.  All my worries seem less important when I go out to run–the things I haven’t checked off my to-do list aren’t weighing me down and I’m not contemplating tomorrow’s tasks.  There is something magical about runner’s high that only other runners understand.  When my feet hit the pavement…I’m free.

Go MSU! and Sports Memories

3 Apr

In a couple hours I will depart, decked out in Michigan State apparel, for what I expect will be a very exciting game.  I’m heading out with my sisters, mom and brother-in-law to hit the bar, enjoy some beer and yell at a television screen.  I’m in Indianapolis, so I’m likely to be surrounded by Butler fans giving me the evil eye.  It doesn’t matter to me; I will be rooting for green all the way.

I wonder what those kids feel like.  The kids (I now feel like I can call them that, as they are all at least five years younger than me) who will be on the floor, with thousands and thousands of people at Lucas Oil Stadium honed in on their every move.  Their every shot, their every mistake, their every foul.  I hope Lucious will not step out of bounds, I hope Summers will sink multiple threes, I hope no one gets injured.  What goes through their minds as they step out on that floor, knowing that so much hinges on this one game?  I’ve never experienced that kind of pressure; I can’t imagine being a starter in a Final Four game.

As a runner, I remember one specific race where everything clicked perfectly.  It was just a 5k, but everything was right–my legs felt stronger, my breathing was on, the temperature was perfect.  It ended up being the fastest 5k I’ve ever run (20:25) and I fondly remember that day, seven years ago, as my best athletic moment.  The feeling when I raced towards the finish line and saw my time was incredibly satisfying.  I had never run as fast before, and I’d be shocked if I ever ran as fast again. 

What’s your best athletic moment? Why was it so memorable?

I hope for all kinds of amazing athletic moments in a few hours.  I love all this anticipation.

Go MSU!

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