Sunday is my long run day. It’s the crown jewel of the training regimen. The piece de resistance, the bees knees, the cat’s meow, the best part of waking up, the main event.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that I really enjoy the long run – even when it hurts.
While I mess around with this triathlon gig, running is my thing. It brings me joy, peace, and just the right amount of pain. I feel most alive when I go on these long, almost-always solo jaunts, during which time I experience the gamut of human emotion and the limits of physiological ability. The long run cleanses me – body, mind and spirit. As I warm up and ease into the run, my body relaxes, my feet find their rum-tum-rum-tum-rum-tum rhythm, my breath loosens, and my heart pulsates with the surge of oxygen and hard work.
What do you think about?
Some have asked me, “What on earth could you possibly be thinking about when you run for 3 hours? Don’t you get bored?”
Sometimes, I don’t think about anything, feeling nothing but the present moment. I get into my rhythm, and can be completely unaware of the passing time. Or, I think about how I’m feeling: are things going well, or is that weird little tweak in my leg a problem, a sign that I am hurt or just a roving pain that is typical of running long.Other times, I solve life’s mundane and complex problems, formulate ideas for my blog, work through research ideas, come up with new approaches for my teaching, relive and relish some of my favorite racing moments. Usually, it’s a combination of all of these thoughts – and more.
One thing is for certain, however, I’m never bored. The long run is my time – no phone, no email, no distractions. Just my legs, my lungs and my will to keep moving forward, even when it hurts, or I should say, especially when it hurts.
Going long makes me feel strong.
The long run is a weekly challenge I can count on. It teaches me again and again, in fresh and familiar ways that I’m tough, and I like to feel tough–fierce, even. A long run in rainy or cold conditions is especially good to evince this fierce feeling. Nothing says “hardcore” like a long run in the freezing rain.
But, it’s not as if every moment of the long run is pure joy. Sometimes, there are the voices that like to introduce doubt:
Oh, this is going to be too much for you today.
With this wind, you’re never going to be able to maintain your pace.
OOh, look at that hill – that’s gonna hurt.
Every time I prove these voices wrong because I keep going, increase my pace, or power up a hill, I grow stronger physicially and also mentally. When I finish a long run, even if I didn’t feel my best, I am buzzing with self-assurance, just knowing that I willed my body to take step after step to achieve the week’s goal.
Over time, achieving these weekly goals builds confidence. If I find myself in a race situation where things are getting rough, I can call on this power to keep me going, to increase my pace, to power up a hill.
I can just be me.
Throughout my life, I’ve felt the pressure that most women face to look a certain way in order to be “pretty,” or “feminine.” These pressures can harm one’s psyche and soul. But, during a long run, no one is (or can be) pretty. Let’s face it, there’s not much beauty (of the traditional sort, at least) in blowing a snot rocket, or sweating from every pore, or smelling like a regular sub with extra onions.
Yet, running long produces it’s own type of beauty, and one that is gloriously free of the pressures of make-up and highlights and skinny jeans. I can be myself–snot rockets and all. I can sing out loud (and almost always do).
I can smile.
I can breathe in and breathe out.
I can pretend that I’m the lead female at Lake Placid Ironman, and I’m increasing my lead with every step. Or, I can imagine that I’m hunting down Chrissie Wellington or Miranda Carfrae, and closing the gap with each stride. My long run fantasies belong to me, and I’m sure to conjure a new one every week.
What do you love about a long run – or if you aren’t a runner – a long or especially challenging workout?
