Last week, my husband disputed the years I thought we had a gym membership. I insisted it was 2012, he claimed the gym wasnât open until we moved into our current house in 2014. Our email inboxes confirmed both of us were wrongâ2013 is the year we joined, leaving me wondering:
If I wasnât using the elliptical during the six months I was in-between jobs, what on earth was I doing for my workouts?
Turns out I was runningâand I had completely forgotten about it.
I have always despised running. In 2009, my dad and brother started running half marathons and would occasionally rope me into joining their practice runsâI sputtered and coughed through most of them. A year later, I made a goal to run a 5k with my best friend, got too caught up in writing my masterâs thesis to properly train, and got winded by the first (very hilly) mile.
After eating my weight in patĂ© on my honeymoon in 2011, I came home and sought a personal trainer who was a runner. When the weather was nice, we would do our sessions at a nearby park, where the trees are a century year old and the trails are so steep, the middle school cross-country team she coaches dubbed one of them Suicide HillâI quickly learned to run up, but walk down, lest I wanted to bury my face in the dirt.
You rarely invest time in learning something that you loatheâso maybe, somewhere buried in my subconscious, there was a deep desire to love.
Yet despite those experiences, I never considered myself a runner. Last year, I asked a mom friend/running coach for advice, who shrugged and said she has âalways loved running.â Then I combed through Haruki Murakamiâs memoir on running for inspiration, only to be intimidated by the amount of marathons this man has run (and the amount of pain he endured to finish them).
What exactly was it going to take to get past my self-perception of
being a terrible athlete?
Based on my goal for 2025, it didnât look like I have any choice in matter. Last weekend marked the first time I went running in over a decadeâI expected jabbing pain in my side, shortness of breath, and overall humiliation of getting passed by others. To my surprise, none of these things happened. Occasionally I veer to the left of the man who is walking when Iâm sprinting for 90 seconds, and the guy whoâs been at the track since before I arrived doesnât spare a second glance when he passes me during a rest lap.
When the finishing timer dings, Iâm disappointedâand donât realize how exhausted I am when I sit down later to write. Nevertheless, I churn out 500 words, knowing that Iâll maybe get one decent fragment of an idea in that, and overhaul the entire thing to revolve around that one idea.
Finally, I realize that much like running, my best performance comes out in short bursts. That the most provocative ideas only emerge when I put time constraints on my efforts, aiming for intensity over endurance. That you donât have to have dozens of medals on display to call yourself a runner, or publications to your name to call yourself a writer.
Maybe Iâve been a runner this entire timeâand have just waiting for my heart to catch up with my head.
Now over to you đŹ
Do you love or loathe running? Do you prefer to run or write in short bursts, or long, sustained periods of time? Have you ever believed something about yourself that turned to be false?
Leave me a comment and let me know.
Previously on The Write-Life Balance âȘ
I recently saw an email about Quitterâs Day, celebrating the time people throw the towel in for their New Yearâs Resolutions đŹ Tomorrow is Lunar New Year, so I say there is still definitely time to nail down or (re)start your 2025 goals. Here is mine.
Links for January đ
𧧠So excited to build these red envelopes for with my daughterâs classmates this afternoon.
đïž The worldâs most perfect track jacketâand trust me, Iâve owned a lot of mediocre ones.
đ€ Sorry not sorry for all the social invites I will probably turn down this year.
đđ»ââïž Went down the running bpm rabbit hole and made playlists to fit my mood while maintaining my pace. Send me your recs!
đ Iâm most impressed that he found a water buffalo for the shot.
ChĂșc mừng nÄm má»i,
Sophia :)