Running for the first time in a year and a half.
You have to hate a hobby to love it. (And celebrate with nachos)
I ran, in the true sense of the term, for the first time in a year and a half today. It was great, but just how I remembered it.
I wasn’t planning on running, but like a subconscious act, it just…. happened. The morning of the 42nd day of spring was mid-thirties and rainy. While a good day by Northeastern standards, I definitely wasn’t coaxed out by the weather. The thought of not running had been a lingering cloud for the past year and a half, and I acknowledged that I would have to run again at some point, but I wasn’t due to guilt. In the middle of the day I found myself gravitating toward the New Balance store on Boylston street and my wallet floating out of my pocket to purchase an incredible pair of running facilitators. I assume Moore’s law holds true for running shoes (I was impressed with them to say the least). Later making it back to my room, I figured a run would complete the pattern of ascension on this accomplished day (I’m not yet willing to attribute this drive to genuine desire). May 1 has become my January 1; a new year for more reasons than one.
Running for the first time in a city you’ve already been living in isn’t the best way to determine distance. When running, you have an accurate grasp of distance and time. But when running around a city you’ve walked for a year, you believe you’ve moved three times as far as you actually have. In the right setting thats one of the best parts about running, you cover a lot of ground in much less time. It’s like efficient multitasking and it’s the best way to see a city.
So today, I got to see another Boston. Until, that is, a battle arose for my focus between the external scenery, and the internal pain from running on a whim for first time in a long time. You have the biggest wall to climb on the first day back. The rest are much more manageable, but not to say easier. Arguably harder, getting up and running the second time is a true test. Running the first time is easy, choosing to do it again when you know whats in store is much harder. That also means there’s more reward.
This run (few things aside) was great. I was hitting all of the memory retrieval cues and it felt like I was still in high school at cross country practice: right where I left off. Stretching on the Charles river dock afterwards, accompanied by the arrival of the sun and warmer temperatures, reminded me why I love running. The physical and mental pleasure — “How I’ve missed it!” I thought. At the same time, I was reminded that I used to dread it, but also learned why. Running can’t be your only active outlet. Too much of anything is a bad thing — and to enjoy something like running, it has to be in moderation. Alternated. But having hated it, I can really appreciate the rewards when I do it right. Parts of running will still suck: dead weight limbs and heat exhaustion (to name the most pleasant), but all the rest helps you forget about the often negligible bad. Because when you recognize that you hated it and understand why, the good is that much easier to appreciate.
Just as I remember it.
