True Confessions

I've been running off and on for the past 8 or 9 years.

Until recently, I wasn't a very consistent runner. I'd run a few days a week for a couple of months. Then I'd get bored with it and quit. I'd start back up and be going strong. Then I'd be swamped with life, and I'd end up quitting again. I'd put on a few pounds, and start running. Then I'd get back into my clothes and quit.

But something has always pulled me back.

Part of it has always been the challenge of running; it is something that I feel a need to conquer.

But the other part was that it was something in my life that I felt had been left undone. I have always wanted to run a marathon. And that little voice in my head would start calling out to me, reminding me of my unobtained goal, and I'd start back running again.

In January, I finally decided this was the year to get serious. So, I joined TNT, trained my heart out and ran the Indianapolis half marathon in May. It was awesome; I was thrilled.

But I wasn't satisfied.

Because, as we all know, a half isn't a full.

And it's just not the same.

So along came that nagging voice again, and I was off and training for Chicago.

Insert 1 knee problem related to over use, and lots of PT.

Insert 1 ankle injury, with a 3 - 6 month recovery time.

And I'm back on the bench.

By the time the ankle injury came about, I was at an all time high in my frustration level. Nothing was going as I wanted. My knee was giving me constant problems. I wasn't seeing any improvement in my running abilities. I was having a hard time with the summer heat. I wasn't doing very well completing the scheduled miles on the long runs.

In a matter of 2 days time, I went from running to not being able to walk because of my ankle.

My instant reaction was devastation. I sat down and sobbed and sobbed, as I watched my dream slipping away. I cursed the thought of having to start over again as I watched all my hard work disappear.

But then..

something else entered my mind. Another emotion all together.

One that quite surprised me.

Relief.

Because, all of a sudden I had a legitimate excuse to quit my training. My life would be mine again. No more getting up at 4:45 AM to try to beat the heat. No more free days given over to running all morning and recovering all afternoon. No more trying to fit the training into a crowded schedule.

In the immediate days, as that relief and freedom continued to wash over me, I began to doubt my status as a runner. I began to wonder if a "real runner" would be having those thoughts.

Then as more time went on, and I was reveling in all the extra time I had, I started thinking that I was never going back. I started to extract myself from the running world. I stopped blogging, stopped reading other's blogs.

But, then I started missing all of the blogs that I was following. I started wondering how everyone's training was going. And I began missing reading all the posts of everyone's defeats and triumphs. So, I started checking back in on everyone.

And one of my absolute favorite bloggers, Running Jayhawk, posted two back to back entries that just hit a chord for me. The first was about her Runniversary and it really got me thinking about what running means to me, and how far I had come with my own running. Then she posted this and it made me want to cry for her. Because I know exactly where she is and how she feels.

The combination of the two posts is the epitome of what running is to me. The triumphs and the defeat. The celebrations and the frustrations.

And I know that I don't want to live my life without feeling those things again.

I want to feel the pride and accomplishment of a new first - a new distance completed for the first time, or a PR at a race, or a new fastest split.

I want to feel the devastation. I want to sit down on the road side and cry because I don't think I can make it one more step. Then I want to get up, dust myself off, and run the 5 more miles anyway.

I know that I will never truly feel whole if I never again experience these things. And knowing that deep down, those feeling were there all along, brings me the biggest sigh of relief of all.

I guess I really am a runner after all.