Category: Running

RAIN

This has been on my mind for a while now and the day of our first snow of the season felt like a great day to let my fingers do the talking.

Recently we had a stretch of rain in my area and I was forced to take a walk on one of the days we were blessed with the wet stuff.  It was during this jaunt I finally figured out why I like rain.

Over the years, some of my favorite activities have taken place during a rain.  Like the time I shot 39 in a down pour.  Or that time I made it home from a run just as the storm hit (trees were down everywhere) and I got soaked.  Then there is that time we drove home in a torrential weather system, hail and all, moving along at 35 MPH and probably still going too fast.

There are many more moments like these but I’ll spare you the trip down memory lane.  The point of this is to share with you how I finally figured out why I enjoy rain during my most recent adventure.

What I realized was thatnduring all of those events, the isolation forced upon me through the curtain of rain was in fact a meditating experience.  I know this now because recently I began my journey of mindfulness practice and the similarities between them are striking.

The calm, quiet focus of that round of golf is unforgettable.  Even though I was in a foursome, I was alone because of the rain.  Dripping water off of the bill of my cap placed a wall between my companions and me.  The solituted was incredible.  I was able to eliminate the chatter of meaningless conversation (with my playing partners, but also myself) and elevate my concentration.

The rainstorm I almost beat home was a similar experience.  I could see the clouds move in and feel the still in the air.  Instead of focusing on the aches and pains of the run, I focused on being efficient and beating the storm.  Although I did get drenched, I felt like I still won the race.  The calm I felt as I pushed my body to it’s limits was exhilirating.

Back to my recent walk in the rain.  Once again, rain drops were creating a wall of solitude, this time off of my umbrella.  I was getting wet on the edges of my body, my feet, my elbows, my knees.  Just the places I couldn’t get covered adequatly.  But the dampness was a reminder that it was the elements and me.

In that moment of solitude, I realized I was meditating.  I was following my breath and focusing only on it.  Time slipped away and I was transported back to the time I was running with a buddy and the sound of his breath and my ability to focus on it, gave me the greatest feeling I have ever experienced.

My practice will get me there again, but this time it will be my breath and I will be dry.

Yes, I am a runner!

Let Your Mind Run: A Memoir of Thinking My Way to Victory by Deena Kastor, Michelle Hamilton, narrated by Deena Kastor.  Try Audible and get it here: https://www.audible.com/pd?asin=B07CCZFF7L&source_code=ASSORAP0511160006

As I took my place inside of the circle, the woman next to me asked, “Are you a runner? My dad is and he has gear like yours.” I stumbled with my reply, mumbling something about wanting to be, used to be, hope to be again. Thankfully the tone of the meditation bowl sounded and I was off the hook.

It’s not that I’m adverse to the idea of being called a runner. Or even against claiming the mantle. I just have this notion that being a runner is more than putting on some colorful ASIC shoes and cool running clothes.

In my mind, being a runner is logging the miles, embracing the suck, living healthy AND the cool swag. Or as legendary running Coach Joe Vigil described it, “Living the athlete’s life.” Unfortunately at this time the only thing I can check off that list is the swag.

The last time I laced up my shoes to “compete” was June of 2016 when I ran the Grandma’s Marathon for the third time.  I finished in a personal record of 6+ hours (record as in the longest it has taken me to run 26.2 miles).  It was agonizing and exilerating and fulfilling and humbling all at the same time.  Even after finishing I couldn’t find it in me to say I was a runner.

Since that time, I have continued the struggle.  Prior to running the marathon, I had struggled to get in any of my scheduled training runs, struggled to find a happy place, struggled to do anything resembling that of the life of an athlete, let alone a runner.

Trust me, I intend to be a runner again someday.  I just need that little shove that gets me over the starting line.  That little impetunce that motivates me to give me permission to be selfish and spend the time I crave, alone, on the road with my thoughts and the suck.

I am constantly looking for the sign that tells me I am ready to join the most positive people on the planet.  The legions of men and women who take to the streets and trials and roads of their neighborhoods to live the life of an athlete.

New gear?  That often helps.  New goals?  They often help.  New gratitude?  That often inspires.  None of it ever seems to last longer than a three day binge of getting out the door, running two miles, feeling great about my ability to clock twenty eight minutes of activity and then finding an excuse to miss the next two miler.

To say I am helpless/hopeless would be an understatement.  I am both in spades.  I feel as if I am beyond help, unreachable by the longest life line.  Beyond hope, it seems not even the grace of God himself can save me from this black hole of a lost soul.

That is until I listened to Deena Kastor and her amazing story of the power of positive.  Her retelling of the events of her running life and how, in those moments of doubt, she used positive affirmations and belief in herself to overcome obstacles that I, on my daily runs, have and do experience.

Possibly the most important thing Deena did was give me permission as well as a way to say I am a runner.  Quite simply, just claim it.  I AM A RUNNER!

Thank you Deena Kastor, your book is my new favorite.  I look forward to taking you with me on many runs, being inspired by your words of encouragement and coached on the ways to over come the small obstacles using positivity.