Why I Love Running

First of all, I'm just going to say that one doesn't love running unless they're crazy.  Which, all runners to some point are.  We're an obsessive people: We can't stand missing training days, were pour over race results endlessly, we get anxious if we don't think we worked hard enough on a particular day, we will run even when we shouldn't.  And we cry when we absolutely can't.

But it's all for a good reason.  There just something special about it- the rhythmic thud of shoes hitting the pavement, the beat of your heart, your steady breaths.  And the bliss in the solitude of running by yourself or the faithful camaraderie of being right next to just a few other people.  It reminds you that you're alive, and you can do this, no matter how much you want to stop.  You can feel yourself getting stronger with each step you take, and if you've been running for awhile, you remind yourself that you're good at this.  Most people can't go out and do what you're doing.

If you're a beginner, there's the power in starting something new.  Running tires you out- but when you're new, your legs are fresh.  I remember what made me start running distance.  I was in grade seven and had always loved to run.  I begged my mom to let me do middle school cross country and track and wasn't willing to give up on running even when she said she wouldn't let me.  She told me that I'd never be able to run very fast and I'd practice for nothing.  No one in my family had ever tried running (or any sport) before and she didn't like sports.  So I did some research and found out that my local community center had a youth running club.  It was only two days a week, so my mom let me sign up to see if I really liked it.

The first day of practice, I ran the most brutal 4 kilometers of my life.  I liked running, sure, but I never realized that it'd be that... hard to go long and not fast, like in tag.  My first kilometer took me 6 minutes, and after that I got knocked to 7 minutes, then 9, then 8 once I realized how slow 9 minutes was.

But slowly, I improved.  We did a 10k race at the end and even though I ran 71 minutes, it was still about 7 minutes per kilometer for each lap, nowhere near the 9 minutes I had done on the first day.  So I kept running.  Not much, but I kept the muscle memory I gained in 7th grade and never again ran like I did that first day.  I did my school's winter running club in 8th grade.  Youth running club again in 9th.

And then my mom let me do cross country.  Except for maybe writing, I have never found something I liked better and I can't understand for the life of me why more people don't run.  Maybe it really is because only crazy masochists who enjoy the pain like it.  The season is over now and I don't know what to do with myself except run.  I dropped 4 minutes in my 5k and I don't plan to gain them back any time soon.  I'm not running as much as I did in practice because everyone is supposed to take time off since cross country exhausts your body.  But my running routes aren't restricted to my neighbourhood anymore and there's something about the freedom of looking at your watch and saying to yourself, "I have 45 minutes.  Where do I want to go?"  And just... going until you have to come back.  I did just over 5 miles today and I'm sore as heck because I have a cold and I was already tired, but I wouldn't give anything for how good it makes me feel when I look back and tell myself, "I did that.  For 45 minutes of my life I had complete freedom and I chose to do that, go there, and I know that I wouldn't trade the ability to run for the world."