It’s so easy to not do something you can do when you CAN do it. You justify it. You make excuses. (Is there even a difference?) Why write a paper now that’s due at the end of the semester, if you have all semester to write it? There’s no sense of urgency, no immediate pressure.
Athletes think this way all the time. How often does the alarm buzz before the sun comes up, and you just roll over in bed, fall back to sleep, and promise yourself that you’ll do an extra rep or run an extra mile tomorrow? Or thought that cloud in the sky looked a little too threatening, so you watched an hour of the Food Network at the gym instead, which masquerades as cross-training?
Of course, when you choose not to do something out of your own volition, you are in control. Decisions are made on your terms. There’s no guilt. But when an external force or unforeseen circumstance prevents you from doing that thing you can do, you want to do it even more. It’s like when there’s a fresh tray of brownies on the counter, still warm from the oven. But it’s almost dinnertime, and you’re told you’ll spoil your appetite if you have any. Well, that just sounds like a challenge, doesn’t it? Being told you can’t have something or can’t do something makes you want to have it or do it that much more.
Athletes love their sport. They wouldn’t keep doing it if they didn’t. This is particularly true for runners. Running is more than a sport, it’s a lifestyle, and runners love to hate it. We spend warm-ups brainstorming ways to get hurt just enough so that we won’t have to suffer through the impending workout, but not too much that we’ll have to sit out from the next race. My socks are really thin, I think I feel a debilitating blister coming on. On long runs, we consider ways to cut the run short, but still get in the required minutes of cardio. Thank goodness we’re passing the Inn, I really needed to go to the bathroom. Of course, we never follow through on our plans. We endure the loneliness of summer base training, the brutal cold of upstate New York winters, the agony of Johnny Cake Hill, the monotony of the indoor track, the chilling pain of the ice baths, and the countless miles. And we always come back day after day, season after season - not in spite of those things, because of them. (But that doesn’t stop us from celebrating when Coach cuts the long run from 110 minutes to 90).
No matter how much running might suck in the moment, nothing sucks more than not being able to have those moments at all. I sprained my ankle three weeks ago (while running, go figure), and am still hobbling around in a bulky black boot - a ball and chain keeping me from doing the thing I love, the thing that keeps me grounded. When I ride the bus on my way to work and see runners on the sidewalk as I look out the window, I want nothing more than to be running with them. Watching the Olympic track trials last week didn’t help, either. Being sidelined brought to light the fact that I’ve often taken running for granted.
Not being able to run hurts way more than the burning fire in my quads while running up a never-ending hill. It hurts more than the lactic acid that builds up between the third and fourth tempo mile. It hurts more than the shin splints at the end of a twelve-mile run. It even hurts more than finishing a race in last place. Trust me, that hurts.
The experience of being injured made me realize how much more I’ll appreciate running and how much harder and more seriously I’ll train when I’m finally able to lace up my trainers again. Running has given me so much, and an injury can’t take that away. Running gave me a team and a community, a support system of equally insane people who truly understand what it’s all about. Running’s taught me to be resilient: when life puts a hurdle in your way, you just have to get over it. It won’t always be easy, and sometimes you’ll fall, but you have to keep getting up and trying harder, again and again. Running has also taught me to focus on what you can control, and have a good attitude while doing it. Sometimes it will rain for all 100 minutes of the long run and the sun will come out on the 101st, and that’s just the way the cookie crumbles. Take it in stride (pun intended). When those external forces or unforeseen circumstances keep you from doing what you want to do or knock you off course, you have to do everything within your power to make it happen and accomplish your goal.
So, foul weather during a run might suck, but feeling like a badass when you’re finished with that run sucks less. Waking up early to beat the heat might suck, but catching the sunrise definitely sucks less. Hills suck, but the incredible views at the top suck less. Miles and miles and miles and miles with no days off might suck, but that sparkling new personal record at the end of the season sucks way less (don’t forget that runner’s high, too). Running might suck, but not being able to run sucks more.
