Fall 1973, sophomore year of high school, I ran my first mile. I had tried freshman football the year before. It was obvious I was not cut out for football. That left cross country as the sport of choice or last resort. I began running during the summer with the goal of "if I could run 2.5 miles without stopping by the end of summer I'd go out for the XC team."
I ran with ankle weights and Adidas Cross Country shoes. My route was a loop around the local lake starting and finishing at my home, about 3 miles. By the end of the summer I was able to run the route without stopping. How fast, I had no idea.
That first cross country season was the hardest thing I had ever done. The coach not only wanted us to run the 2.5 mile distance of the race, but also to do it fast! It was long runs, intervals, hills, long sprints. I was never so tired than I was after an XC practice. But to my surprise, it also felt good...and even better, I was faster than my older brother. I could never beat him in any sport or better him in any subject in school, but I could out run him. Some incentives are not intrinsic.
After that season of running success, I gave up my dreams of playing baseball and went out for the track team, running the mile and 2 mile.
Three years of high school cross country and track at a small Indiana school, I had my successes. Never a top state runner, but I competed with the best in our conference. After high school, I found a small college with a track team but no cross country team, the University of Evansville. More of a coincidence than looking for a college where I could continue to compete.
In all my high school and college running, I never had a true "running coach". They were teachers with extended duty contracts or football coaches more interested in keeping their football players occupied during the spring than teaching me the finer aspects of distance running training and racing. It didn't matter at the time. I was running, being moderately successful and enjoying being a collegiate athlete. I was a mediocre, small college runner, but I was having fun. That's what mattered. I earned a letter jacket, scored points in our conference meet and met my best friend for life. Not a bad collegiate career, in my opinion.
After college, I continue to run, mostly road races and began to explore the marathon. I actually got faster after college and finished in the top 3 in many races in the years after college. Running during those years was about seeing what I could do. I didn't have a coach, had no idea or illusions that I could be a "professional' runner. I just liked to run and knew I was fairly good at it from a local level.
Those were my Colorado and early Oregon years. During that time I discovered longer distances and the marathon. The marathon has always been a long run finish goal, not a time goal. I have never been under the illusion that I could be an elite or even a national class runner. I ran because it brought me joy, contentment, focus and reverence.
This period of my running life was the most important. It paralleled my life's journey in marriage, parenting and career. It was my respite, my energizing, my contemplation, my spiritual, my rejuvenating time. My times became slower, my distances longer, but my overall health better.
This period lasted many years. The most difficult part of it was accepting that I would never become faster than I once was. I was slowing down. As much as I tried my times were never as fast as they were during my college and post-college days. After much denial, I accepted that my PRs would be age related. Once I accepted that, running became more fun. I had new goals.
This phase of my running journey has been the longest. Endeavoring to run faster at 45 than 40, at 55 than 50. It has also been the most frustrating. After over 40 years of running with no major injuries my body started to wear down.
It started with hip pain while training for a half marathon that I was running with my daughter. I should have stopped but how could I when I was going to run with my kid? The joy of running with your kids is too great. I don't regret it.
A couple weeks after the half marathon, I could barley walk. My right ankle was inflamed. I had torn a tendon that required surgery. From that moment to the present, running has changed. The difficult part of running used to be fighting the fatigue of intervals or distances, running up a long hill. Now it is accepting that running hurts. My knees and feet hurt. I have gout in my feet and pain in my knees from lack of flexibility in my quad and hamstrings.
I grew up in the age of running where we ran. We didn't strength train, we seldom stretched...we ran...and it was good. That has all caught up to me.
Today, I spend more time stretching, foam rolling, core strengthening, swimming, biking than I do running. I do it because it keeps me running. It allows me to pretend I'm the runner I once was. Make believe is a good thing.
The other thing that keeps me excited about running, and track and field in particular, is that I've become a USATF certified track and field official. I'm giving back to the community that fostered this running journey. I have enjoyed observing the high school and college athletes as they pursue their goals.
It will be 50 years this fall that I ran my first mile. Since then I have run every year. Some years lots of miles, some not as much. Running has been my constant, my balance, my time to contemplate, my time to find spirtualness.
I am a runner.
