Now I get It: Running from the Perspective of a 10 Minute Miler

While I am a runner in the sense that I actually run, I never really considered myself a runner. I enjoy running and I believe it is truly one of the best form of exercise out there. But I am not a fast runner (see title) and oftentimes look like an injured turtle moving through peanut butter on the side of the road. I get through this terrifying point by avoiding eye contact on the road and running away from people I know...They can't see me like that.

But I have never truly understood why it is that people LOVE running. I find it fun, most times I find it bearable and less frequently I find it to be addictive. I buy good shoes, I read a few articles about how to eat right and correct form, but I still feel as if I have yet to break into the running community.

Yet, as I have been training for my half marathon, I have found myself moving into the role of a true runner. I'm logging miles, advancing in my training and loving running. Last week I ran 10 miles. I rested the day before, had a light nutritious breakfast and felt incredible during most of my run. 10 miles is a long time. 1:40:48 is a long time (like anyone's counting) but I couldn't wait to do it again this weekend.

Saturday I ran 12 miles in 1:56:40. I woke up at 7am on Saturday simply because I was ready to tackle 12 miles. I wanted to know that feeling great during 10 miles the week before was not a fluke, and I was chasing the feeling of complete exhaustion, accomplishment and pride. During my 12 miles, I figured it out: now I get it.

While I certainly struggled and used a lot of mental motivation ("A body in motion will stay in motion") to keep me from walking a single step, there were moments when I realized what running is about. About mile 2 or so (it takes me a while to warmup), it hits you. You feel like you're floating. Your body mechanics are working perfectly and for a few strides, running is effortless. You feel swift (emphasis on feel... for the record I am not implying I AM swift), your stride is light and running feels great. Then, you trip on a rock, fall in a ditch or change the song on your iPod and its gone. But you want it back. So you push through Mt. Kilimanjaro (or the rolling hills of MD) determined to get the feeling back. You run, less gracefully than you imagine, for the intangible euphoria they call runners high. Just when you're about to give up in mile 6, it's back. You're invincible and considering, in moment of lost reality, signing up for the 2016 Olympics. You're that good. Yet again, this moment is fleeting and you're back to being a hot mess on the side of the road, pushing through.

But I understand now. The feeling you get during a run is something you will forever chase. I can feel it now, sitting on my porch with my coffee on a Monday morning. I can't wait to get back out there and chase it down. For my riding friends, this feeling is akin to working so hard, for so long in search of that perfect ride. The moment your horse is light in your hands, balanced between your legs and moving so well it feels like riding a cloud. It doesn't happen often, but you're determined to make it that way.

I'm not a fast runner, I don't think I will ever be. I'm not a graceful runner. But I am runner, forever in search of that wonderful feeling. Hopefully I feel the same after I tackle 13.1 next weekend, and a big part of my says that I will. Happy Running!