Looking Good

          One day after I'd gone running, my husband called and asked me if I was okay.
          "Yeah, I'm fine," I told him.
          "Well, Ed came into the store and said he saw you walking past City Hall.  He said that you looked uncomfortable."
          "I was running when I passed City Hall," I corrected him.  "I didn't start walking until I turned the corner." If I was going to beat up my knees three days a week I wanted credit for it.
          "Well, he said he saw you walking.  Maybe I got it wrong.  At any rate, he said you looked like you were in pain."
          "I'm fine," I said again.
          I like it when people see me jogging around town.  It's nice to get a little recognition. I'm always hoping they didn't see me wiping my nose on my sleeve, stumbling, or worst of all falling.  I don't like it when people see me walking.
          A couple of days later I saw Ed.  "Hi, Nancy," he greeted me warmly.  Ed is a very nice man.  He's the type of person who remembers your name after the first time you meet, and he never misses a moment to say hello and ask you how you're doing.
          "Oh hi Ed," I said.  "How are you?"
          "I'm fine," he said.  "I saw you walking past City Hall the other day."  I bit my lip and let the 'walking' comment go by.  "You looked uncomfortable."
          "Well, I've been trying to jog three days a week.  I'm going to run a 5K with my niece later this spring."
          "Oh, I see," he said.  "You seemed really uncomfortable."  He looked concerned.
          "Well, you know, I'm not so young any more." I gave a little laugh.  "My knees are bothering me a little bit.  Maybe I'll switch to walking after the 5K."
          Ed nodded.  "You looked like you were in pain."
          I know from seeing my reflection as I run past store windows that I'm not the most graceful jogger.  I look like I'm doing a sort of stumbling, fast walk.  I've tried to figure out what it is about my mechanics that makes me look awkward, thinking that it might help me jog more efficiently.  But nothing I've done seems to change how I look so I try not to think about it as I slowly make my way up and down the streets of our city.
          "Well, I have good days and mediocre days.  Some days are harder than others.  But you know..." I shrugged.  I looked at him.  He didn't exactly look like a runner, if you know what I mean.  What was his point?
          "Well, you looked really uncomfortable," he said again.
          I could feel frustration wrap itself around my ribcage.  "Okay, well it was nice seeing you," I said as warmly as I could.
          "You too.  Take care," he said kindly.

Quittin' Time

My running has become increasingly difficult.  My knee is hurting more and I'm not able to make it around my route without getting tired and stopping to walk.  I went to the doctor about my knee but I guess I wasn't satisfied with his answer (it's swollen, it's arthritis, wear a brace, get a cortisone shot), so I worry that I shouldn't be trying to run on it.  I mean to use my knees for several more years so I don't want to do anything now to ruin that plan.  I haven't had a good run for two weeks or more and I dread going out because I fear I'm going to poop out before my first mile.  I had decided that I would run the 5K I had promised my niece and then begin a walking regimen.  I thought about that every time I went out to run.

I reluctantly set out this morning and began trotting down the street.  My knee began hurting immediately.  I tried to ignore it but I began to worry that I was making it worse.  I thought about the promised 5K and became more discouraged.  I thought I would just walk the 5K to save my knee.  I started to think about telling my niece that I couldn't run a 5K with her after all.  I jogged along awkwardly for about a mile, until I got to the corner where I turn.  Then I gave up. "Fuck it," I said to myself.  I started walking.  I felt like crying.  I had been doing so well in January that I thought my new running shoes were magic.  Then it began to get harder.  Now I was a complete failure.

I began to think about all the ventures I had embarked upon in the last few years.  I had taken violin lessons for ten years and while I could play some simple tunes, I was not good enough to play without looking at sheet music and I was certainly not good enough to play in front of anyone.  Then there was my goal to learn Spanish.  I had taken all the Spanish courses offered at our community college and had even started a Spanish conversation group but my Spanish was dismal.  Then I decided to be a writer.  I wrote three novels but never tried to edit a single one; in fact I never even reread them.  There was volleyball, painting, dance classes all ending in mediocrity.  Everything I could think of that I had tried to do as an adult was a bust.  I continued walking slowly down the street along my route thinking about these failed attempts.  Now I could add running to the list.  Maybe I would never find that one thing that I was really good at.  

I thought about how I always got to a certain point and then never got any further.  What if it was because I made excuses so that I didn't have to do the extra work?  I never expected to be world class but I did expect to be better than I had ended up being.  I quit violin because I wasn't getting any better, but what if I had increased my practice time and forced myself to learn the skills that I thought were too hard?  I had downloaded hours of Spanish language practice podcasts but hadn't bothered to listen to any of them.  What if I had spent time each day practicing Spanish by reviewing notes from my classes, listening to podcasts and watching Spanish language television, or reading Spanish language books?  

Now I was thinking about my running.  Was I using my knee as an excuse to quit because it was getting too hard?  I stopped right there on the sidewalk and thought about it.  What if I made myself run even though I was tired and my knee hurt?  Was this my moment to face the hard work it might take to be able to run a 5K?  I turned and walked back to the corner where I had started walking.  Then I turned and slowly began to jog along the remainder of my route.

Confidence

          One day I was jogging my short route, feeling pretty good and knowing that I would be able to finish the route without walking.  As I was coming upon the intersection where I cross a busy street and then turn right to continue on to the end of my run I noticed an older man up ahead jogging at an awkward pace.  He was running on the same side of the street as I would be running once I turned.  He looked stiff and slow as he ran.  I wondered how I was going to pass him; should I go onto the street and pass him on his right, or should I pass him on the left and stay on the sidewalk?  I wanted to be encouraging as I passed, because I was always a little dismayed when someone passed me.  Should I say, "Hello" or "Good morning"?  Should I comment on the weather, or my run?  I thought about all of these things as I crossed and started down the street behind him.  As I ran, I watched ahead of me as he increased his distance, becoming smaller and smaller, until I couldn't see him past a curve in the road.

Jogging for Coffee

I like to think about ways to make my runs less stressful and more relaxing.  Here are some ideas that haven't worked out so well for me (you may have better luck):

I save any coins I find along my route and when I've collected $3.85 I'm going to buy myself a latte from Starbuck's as a reward.  I have a coffee mug in my dresser drawer where I've been collecting the coins since I came up with this idea about a year ago.  As of today, I've accumulated 47 cents.

I try to catch up with anyone walking before they change course and leave my route.  The other day I was almost to the corner which marks the end of my run, when I saw a man walking up ahead of me.  He was walking briskly and I had to push myself to catch him.  I was finally at his right shoulder getting ready to pass him when he turned his head to the right and spit.

I used to run early in the morning before work so that I could get it out of the way and feel good for the rest of the day.  In the winter it's still dark outside but there's little traffic and I don't mind running in the rain or the cold.  One morning I was jogging along and tripped over a bump in the road, fell on my face and ended up with two black eyes, a scraped forehead, a bruised lip, and general facial swelling.

Slumping

          I've been pretty excited about the success I've had since I started a jogging routine at the beginning of January.  I was convinced that my new shoes were magic.  By the middle of February and I was able to consistently run my three mile-ish route three days a week, without stopping to walk.  I felt like I would be ready for a 5K at the beginning of summer.
          Then I started having off days.  I couldn't even make it through my short route without walking most of the way.  That had only happened once in January after sharing a bottle of wine with a friend the night before, but this time I couldn't figure out what had gone awry.  After the first bad day, I reminded myself that everyone has off days.  Unfortunately, my next run was also difficult.  Once again, I had to walk much of the way.  After doing so well for almost six weeks, it disappointing.  It kept happening until I'd accumulated five bad runs in a row.  Since I only run three times a week, that's almost two weeks of sloppy jogging.
          I felt like I'd been fooling myself.  I was thinking that I was too old to begin running, and that those last six weeks were a fluke.  I was going to tell my niece that I didn't want to run a 5K after all.  I really wanted to quit and each time I forced myself out on the road, I felt like I was wasting my time.
   Today was a run day and I dreaded it all day long.  When I got home from work I put on my shoes, sweats and a tee shirt and headed out.  My knees began bothering me almost immediately but I tried to stay relaxed and I kept going.  After a couple of blocks, I started to feel better, or at least I wasn't feeling bad and that was encouraging.  I kept going and I did it.  I ran my entire route at a pace I was happy with.  Perhaps I had made it through the slump.
          This Wednesday when I go out for my jog, I might have a good run or I might have a not so good run, but either one is okay.  If it's not so good, I'll remind myself that it happens like that sometimes.  If it's good, I'll enjoy it.  Above all, I will try to remember to take it one jog at a time.

In the Beginning

The hardest thing about jogging is the thing you fall on.  Just kidding.  The hardest thing about jogging is just getting out there.  The second hardest thing is to keep going.  In light of these two obstacles, I have established two guidelines to help me get out and run.

First, I tell myself that I can quit jogging at any time and start walking, or even turn around and go home.  My entire goal is to put on my shoes and hit the pavement.  If I quit, I still celebrate and feel good because I made it through the front door.  Since establishing this goal, I've never deliberately tested it.  Make no mistake, there have been a few times when I've jogged a couple of blocks and felt like I couldn't go any further so I walked home, but I've never quit because I felt like I earned something just by being out there.

Now that running is becoming a habit, I'm working on the second obstacle.  There are a million reasons to stop and walk:  it's windy, I don't feel right, traffic, people are passing me.  My rule is that I have to complete my route.  I can run, jog, walk, or crawl, but I have to stay on my route.  I try to stay relaxed and keep my mind off of my discomfort.  I sing to myself, I practice conjugating Spanish verbs or I try to empty my mind and think about nothing.  If I absolutely have to stop, I ask myself if I can take just five more steps, or if I can make it to that mailbox, or that tree, or lamp post.  Sometimes that helps me get past the temptation to stop and I jog to the end of my route.  Sometimes I don't but then I refer to my first rule which is that I can stop and walk at any time.

These guidelines have helped me run regularly for six consecutive weeks.  I'm keeping my fingers crossed that it will continue.

Here I go Again

I have been around runners all of my life.  My father and brother were both members of their high school track and cross country teams and my brother continued running throughout his adult life.  My husband was on his high school and college track teams and later participated in the corporate Olympics.  He continues to be a runner today.  One of my sons was a member of his middle school and high school cross country teams.  My other son was a four-year member of his high school cross country team.

In spite of all of this influence, I have never been a runner.  In college my roommate and I decided to go running one night but after a couple of laps around the track across the street we collapsed in our dingy apartment, sweating, coughing and panting, never to attempt it again.  When I was living in San Diego my future husband supported my attempts to become a runner.  In those days, my boss at the bank also encouraged us to run with him after work.  It never lasted more than a few blocks and a couple of months.

In my 30s I ran around the neighborhood for awhile but I was busy having babies and being a mother, as well as a returning college student so I didn't keep it up.  In my 40s I purchased a treadmill and began walking and eventually running in the garage while watching television.  When the treadmill broke, I started running every other day early in the morning before work.  Throughout my forties and fifties, I ran a few months at a time but would fall out of the habit with any excuse (illness, surgery, the wind).

Now I'm 56 years old and am making one last stab.  I've agreed to run a 5K with my niece this summer.  That agreement, along with my ever tightening pants and the new running shoes I got for Christmas have been sufficient inspiration for me to begin running again.  It's official:  I've run three days a week for the entire month of January 2012.  I'm on my way.