For those that are wondering, yes I do actually remember that this blog is supposed to be loosely based on my running escapades. And yes, I am training for a half marathon coming up in a week or so. Well, at least as much as I "train" for anything...
Running to me isn't about training for a big event. It's about, well, running. So when I was sitting in a staff meeting a couple of weeks ago, and my boss says to me, "why don't you run the Tough Mudder?" and one of our hygienists says, "or the Warrior Dash?" I have no problem saying "NO."
You see, those races combine "running" and an obstacle course. I have running in quotes there, because I would challenge the fact that these races are for "runners." These are races for people who like a challenge, sure. But...not true runners. Please note that I am not saying that you can't be a true runner and participate in these events. No, no...I am saying that IF you ARE a true runner and you participate in these events, you clearly realize that you are NOT doing this as a running event. You are doing this as an obstacle course. And that is very, very different from true running.
In my opinion, when true runners want to run a race, they don't want obstacles to distract them from the actual joy of running. They don't want to leave the ground to scale a rickety wooden A-frame. They don't need to prove how tough they are by jumping into ice water. And they've got plenty of mud on their shoes without having to artificially create a mud-pit to fling themselves into.
I don't even listen to music while I run. I don't need someone's voice in my ear, I need to listen to my own thoughts. Plan my own dreams. Pay attention to the road or maybe study the other people going by. I don't want to be distracted from my run, I just want to breathe deep and enjoy it.
I think this is part of the reason that the horrible events at the Boston Marathon shook me to my core. Running is my safe place. It's where I go to get away from the terrible things in this world. To just complete such a small "challenge" as a run so I know that I can complete the bigger challenges of this life. And to think that someone would attack others that were enjoying my beloved sport just makes me very sad and very angry all at the same time.
So next Saturday, I will stand at the start line and begin another half marathon (I have seriously lost count of what number this will be...even Patrick couldn't remember). I will get about two hours and 10 minutes (give or take) of solitude amongst 16,000 other true runners. I will reflect on those in Boston and count myself blessed. I will compose a grocery list, ask myself why I do this, and make up a back-story for the person in front of me. But trust me when I say that after I finish, there will be no part of me that thinks, "I wish
I could have crawled under some barbed wire about half-way through that
run..."
