I got into running, some might say, a little late in life, at least as runners go. I was in my 30’s (albeit a “youngish” 30’s). Before then, the mere mention of running – in PE class, tennis team practice, catching a bus, just whenever – was enough to make me want to retch and run the other way (ironic much?). But when I moved to Louisville, nearly twenty-five years ago now, some dear friends tricked me, I mean, introduced me to the Triple Crown races, and I’ve been hooked ever since.
My go-to distance is the 10K – it’s long enough to get my heart rate up, my blood pumping, the sweat flowing, but not so long where I don’t feel like doing anything else for the rest of the day. Aside from various other races (I have my favorites, like the Polar Bear Grand Prix, which makes me run outside in the winter), I run at least two half-marathons a year – one in the spring and one in the fall. I used to run two marathons a year, but life, as it often does, got in the way. My advice is to go to a running shop and have someone who knows what they’re doing fit you with a good pair of running shoes (even if it’s a brand you’ve never heard of and it’s weird to pronounce and the price is a little, um, pricey). Some blister-free socks are nice too. Also, during a race, if you see the race photographer, act like you feel incredible (whether you actually do or not) – and maybe smile.
I like the variety of races you get with River City Races, and I was stoked when they brought back the Downtown Doubler (now if they would only bring back the Downtown Doubler coffee mug – remember that?). Plus, I’m a sucker for BIG medals, and racing series, so they had me with Run the 502. Besides that, though, I have found that I can trust their races – they are always well run (pun, yes, intended) and organized, and their volunteers are friendly and helpful and right there with the little cups of water. And I have yet to get lost on the course of an RCR-managed race – which, sadly, I cannot say for other races (and, yes, I am serious).
Running has also saved my life – well, running and some really, really, really smart doctors (did I mention they were smart?). Several years ago, I was struck down by a particular gnarly case of ulcerative colitis. It sidelined me for a good year (not necessarily a “good” year, but you know what I mean). Throughout my surgeries, and hospital stays, and convalescence, one of my incentives to get well was the desire to be able to run again. (It was s-o-o-o-o-o difficult for me to watch the televised coverage of the Mini from a medical supply store lift chair.) I used the race BIBs that I have hanging in our exercise room as motivation (plus they covered the cracks in the wall).
As luck (or, really, unluck) would have it, my wife has had her own issues with colitis. Through the Crohn’s and Colitis Foundation, we’ve been active in Team Challenge, the endurance racing arm of the organization, participating in half-marathons across the country to raise money for, and awareness of, inflammatory bowel disease (IBD for short – and sorta less gross). Although my wife has since moved on to cycling for Team Challenge (she has a need for speed), my experience has shown me firsthand the benefits that running (and, ugh, cycling) can have on a person, both physically, and mentally.
Running for me is much more than medals and BIBs and t-shirts and swag (not you, Swag), and it’s not just a form of exercise either (although that’s a thing too). What I like about running is that it’s a way to connect with people you might not otherwise meet who share a common interest, whether at a charity 5K or in the corrals at the start of a race or on a training run around the Cherokee Loop (which is one of my favorite places to run, especially if I see my deer friend). And it allows me to clear my head, and let go of the stresses and anxieties of the day. I’ve had some of my best thoughts and brightest ideas while out on a run (Heck, I wrote this on the treadmill!).
Which brings me to these uncertain times we are currently living in. Running is providing me with some stability, some normalcy. With everything else that is happening, what I can still count on is that my running shoes (the ones the person at the running shop recommended) will be dutifully waiting for me by the front door, ready at a moment’s notice to help whisk me away from all of this craziness, even if only temporarily. I am extremely grateful that I’m healthy and able to run!
While I might’ve lost a step (or two, or three, or whatever – who’s counting anyway, geez!) and my black toenails will forever dissuade me from going barefoot in public (unless maybe on a dare), my passion for running has never wavered, though my priorities might have shifted somewhat. I have found that I’m not so much interested in chasing PR’s anymore as I am in simply completing the course that is set before me, following the journey, enjoying the occasion, and appreciating whatever sights and scenery I happen by (although, truth be told, to occasionally place in my age group is always freakin’ awesome!).
