Patience, runner, patience

Never in my more than 40-plus years on this planet did I ever consider that I'd be at a stage where I was called a runner or even wanted to be a runner. That changed last year, in early 2008, when I grew weary of being described as the "stocky American" at conferences I would speak at in different parts of the world. The fact that I probably needed a "bro" didn't help either. Anyway, if you've kept up with the blog, you know that I've chronicled some of the experiences I've had as I've tried to become a runner or even grow into the "runner" label.

The fact is that I fell hard for running (and this will be a surprise to a good friend back in SoCal who watched me wheeze like someone racked with emphsyema while trying to run with him on more than one occasion). I was shocked at how good it made me feel. I loved how good it felt to be outside, particularly for the few months here in Chicagoland that allow you to be outside without eighty-six layers of thermonuclear industrial strength warming gear. So when did I start thinking I might be a runner? Was it when I started scheduling my runs to insure that I'd get them in? Was it when I used my lunch breaks to get in a couple of miles? Or maybe when I started subscribing to "Runners World" and devoured each issue.
Perhaps it was when I replaced my "Simpsons" wallpaper on my laptop with some boss wallpaper, like the one on the left, from "Runners World" that it was a sign I was becoming a runner. I love this one in particular because I did this run in Sydney last year. Maybe it was the wild euphoria I felt when I finished my first 5K (getting the greatest race t-shirt ever), coupled with the irritation that I didn't do as well as I wanted and I knew I had to sign up for another one - fast.

After that first 5K, I knew I wanted to keep running but I wasn't thinking marathons. Nor sure I'll ever run one and I don't think I have to to be considered a runner. I was happy with the goals I'd set for myself. I ran five 5K's last year and as 2009 dawned, I was aiming for my first 10K. And then I literally fell hard running. And the running became difficult and painful. And then by order of el medico, the running stopped.

Until this past Monday when I got to run again. El medico made it perfectly clear that I had to start easy, very, very easy. Recognizing that I'm not twenty anymore and in peak physical shape, although I'm probably in better shape now than I was then, I am taking his guidance to heart. So Monday it was just a mile. It felt so good. But when I stopped and saw my performance on my Nike+, I was disheartened. Nearly a minute added to my mile time. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. And more ugh. I've told myself that it was OK and would get better. And that's what I'm working on. Improving. I've gotten a couple of more runs in, adding about 10% more distance each time. Times are coming down but not where I'd like them to be but I realize I've got to be patient. I realize it's going to take some time to get back to normal. I can't let it frustrate me. I'm going to get my first 10K in by summer's end. I'm lining up my training now. I just have to get through this hurdle. I'm on it.