Running the Race
Not a big runner, call me a swimmer or soccer player and my acceptance of the title will be better received. I competitively swam for 13 years before coming to college. I also played club soccer for a number of years through elementary, middle and early high school within the 12-year soccer season streak. I was a “Swimmer” and a “Soccer Player” now, I am not as much but I am comfortable accepting my past. I loved being active and constantly having sports to keep me going.
Being a “Runner”, was not a title I had or wanted. I am confident that at one point I told the track coach “I won’t do a sport to just condition for another.” It seemed like cheating and lying about my intentions. Upon going to college, freshman year, I swam twice a week before 8 am and also biked in the cycle studio twice a week at 6:30 am. Today, I am very impressed that I did that all on my own and was overly invested in extra-curriculars. I still felt like a swimmer. Over the next 2 years, I lessened my time in the pool, increased my time in my sneakers and time in a yoga studio, just for a little bit.
Running was an activity, I could put on a running outfit, leave my sorority and come back thankful for the break away. I never had a plan. I did not set distance goals. I traditionally set timetable goals, like be back on the Delta Gamma porch in 55 minutes so I can shower and change before my meeting 30 minutes later.
Being active, to my family included being involved and excited about the Turkey Trots and fun runs available around a neighborhood on weekends together. Putting on brooks, running clothes and walking outside was the copping mechanism when I was done being in the way. I did not really believe I was a runner. I could run but that was different.
Summer before my senior year, one of my besties asked me if I wanted to run the St. Francis Boilermaker Half- Marathon, one of my college dreams and goals. Comparing myself to others to disqualify myself is a terrible habit I have that needed challenging and I knew I would be challenging it by accepting. Physically, I had never clocked a run longer than 5 miles, that wasn’t a walk-run chat with my friend Keaton around campus.
I made the decision to say yes and run the race. I signed up, paid my fifty-dollar entrance fee and was on my way to doing something not even myself wanted to think about. Comparing, I have a Rockstar cousin, Bailey who claims the title of “running queen.” She did the Chicago Marathon this year with a smile on her face the whole time. I didn’t need to do a half.
The next 6 months was a lot of ignoring to run, self-doubt because I lost my initial running pal, gained confidence with a new running pal and the starting stages of learning to enjoy the journey. I had zero option and I told my parents I was doing it, so I couldn’t say I wasn’t any more. Having the race to run was motivation but not the entire purpose. I had to crush a lie I let myself believe; I am not a runner and shouldn’t try to be something I am not.
I was running the race to prove to myself I can do anything I set my mind to and can accomplish my goal and a dream. It was good for me to believe in my ability to do something bigger than my expectations so now I can take another step to dream bigger dreams.
Originally Posted: May 4, 2020
