Stray thoughts on the run
Lately, I have been increasing my mileage--ostensibly this is to train for the Philadelphia Distance Run, then based on that to see whether to aim for a marathon this year or hold off another year (which would put me in the 18-month window to try for a Boston qualifier in the 60-64 age group). However, today I discovered another benefit.I set out, wondering what I was thinking to do a double on Tuesdays. I run an interval workout Tuesday with the group, but in May/June, I started adding a morning run, the result of reading the "Summer of Malmo," more a manifesto than a running "program" which urges runners to build mileage. Of course, the people it's addressed to, I suspect, are young and fast. So I have made some adjustments based on not being young and fast... I assume many who follow Malmo's advice are aiming at mileage somewhere in the low hundreds. However, since my mileage was around 25 a week, I decided to scale the idea down and aim for about fifty a week by the end of August. Malmo urges people to do doubles. I started very modestly with a couple miles on Tuesday mornings--often people do these doubles on their hard workout days, and so Tuesday seemed about right.
However, those two miles became three, then four, then five--and now six. And I ask myself what am I trying to prove and to whom am I trying to prove it? Am I setting myself up for an injury? Is this just hubris? Also, I began to notice how obsessed I was getting with making sure I had enough miles to show on my (so far non-existent) log. I wondered if adding miles for the sake of adding miles had turned running into a job, not a joy.
And so today, before I set out on my run, I took a bookmark with a Prefontaine quote: "Why do I keep running? It always comes down to self-satisfaction and a sense of achievement."
I said a prayer to Pre's spirit--I want that today on my run. I want that self-satisfaction. But most of all, I want to enjoy the run, just for itself, not for the miles I can add to my collection. Just for itself.
And so I set out with that in mind... run through the park, reach the track, run three miles (actually turned out to be 3.25... added a lap, just in case... of what? also just b/c I felt like it). This run was very leisurely. Some could walk faster.
But in the park, the cicadas and woodpeckers and jays and cardinals formed a symphony... and when I reached the track, I noted with delight that the sprinkler was on, watering the infield... and me, as it would turn out.
In addition to the sprinkler, the hose had a couple of pinholes that squirted water and if I veered to the outside of the track when I stepped over the hose, I'd get a sprinkle from the pinholes.
This was going to be fun! I had no concern at all about the time... stayed in outer lanes and used my watch only to help me remember how many laps I'd covered, not that it was a big deal, just for information.
The best laps were the ones during which I was sprayed by both the water from the pinholes and the water from the sprinkler. It was pleasant enough--not cool exactly, but not unbearably hot either--so that I was running pretty comfortably, unhurried, only to accommodate the speed workout later, not because I didn't feel up to going faster.
The sprinkler wetting my hair and clothes brought me back to those carefree childhood summers running through the sprinkler in a swimsuit.
Butterflies occasionally joined me... and the shadow of a hawk glided at my feet when I glanced down at one point.
I left not ecstatic about reaching any specific time goal--just content with the warm comfort of the sun, the clear sky... waved to another runner about to start his workout, greeted a pair of women about to take their walk around the track...
The trip through the park--took a detour around part of the high school cross-country course simply because it seemed fun--chose not to run across the stream in my shoes as the kids do in races... only because I wanted to save the shoes for tonight... But it was tempting! A sense of calm and peace filled me as I left the park. A rabbit skittered into nearby bushes just before I reached the lawn and right of way that leads back to the street.
This morning's run helped me remember that beneath the collection of miles and the goal setting and the races and the hope that I can prove something--to whom? me? others?--there is the simple contentment running offers... the closeness to nature, the greetings exchanged with others, the chance not just to look out the window at the seasons passing by but to wear them on my skin--the heat, the breezes, the cold, the snow, the rain--to move through it all, among the animals, on the run.
Later, I will join my group for the speed workout... and a second helping! One good run deserves another!
posted by DPMcManus @ 8:21 AM
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