Tonight was my first solo run. Today was a rest day in The Child's training schedule, but I needed to get out and run. (Which reads weird as a type it. And then sounds even weirder when I read it aloud to myself.)
The constraint I set for myself was distance. I knew where I was going to run to and then where I was going to return. It was slightly beyond where we've run other training runs on the Riverwalk. I wasn't worried about a time constraint. I got to set the pace. I thought I was going to die the entire time.
Time = 14:03. Distance = 1.38 miles.
It seems that it's a lot easier to bark orders and encouragement at someone else, to help them with their training, than it is to bark the same at one's self. I thought, Wait, I can walk if I feel like my chest is going to explode. I'm out here on my own. Then I thought, No, I can't. I tell The Child to keep going. No walking. I've got to keep going. No walking. Holding myself accountable was much more difficult than holding someone else accountable. But I didn't walk.
I spent the last half of the run with multiple voices in my head arguing about the run. About just giving up and walking the rest. About not passing out. About slowing down my pace. About increasing my pace. About my breathing. About how my feet don't hurt. About how my thighs don't hurt. About how maybe someone will find my corpse at the side of the trail when I have my heart attack. About how maybe I should have taken a rest day. About just shut the voices down and run. About picking up the pace for the last section.
And then it was over.
I went and got The Dog and we walked for my cool down period. Halfway through our normal walk, I finally felt somewhat human again. And then the adrenaline rush arrived and I felt spent but good.
We finished our walk and then I stretched out my legs and back.
Tomorrow is another day.
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The question I had to ask myself is Why am I running?
First, I'm genuinely running to support The Child. I suggested cross country and said I would run alongside and train if The Child participated. It's a time to bond and share something together.
Second, decades ago, I ran with my mother. So it's a way of connecting my past and present, one generation to another.
Third, it was prompted by some health concerns and the need to shift the way that I take care of myself, as well as partnered with changes in my diet.
Fourth, and ultimately, this feels like the next step in a process that started in those health concerns mentioned above. But the primary goal isn't for physical health reasons, but for those of mind and spirit. I've been enjoying my mindfulness walks so much (as has The Dog) that this felt like the next natural step. In addition to being outside, in nature, amongst the trees and flowers and birds, I get to be in conversation with myself, in prayer (in conversation with God), and in those conversations trying to figure things out. Some of those things are about my own mortality. Some of those things concern pieces I'm writing or art I'm creating. Some of those things are about simply being out and about and observant and engaged.
So, there are many reasons to run. But, essentially, it's simply the next step. (Pun intended.)
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And it's also about learning.
One thing I quickly learned is that I needed proper shoes. The first couple of runs were in my Converse because that's what I had. I felt every step as I ran. It was like the soles of my feet were being pounded by the trail.
I did some research and purchased a pair of Asics Gel Venture 6. They were rated well on multiple running websites and were reasonably priced.
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Now it's time to run some more. And learn some more.
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