This past Sunday I ran the second half marathon of my life.The race took place in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, roughly 40 minutes away from Spokane. The weather conditions beckoned an awesome race, as did the landscape. Winding through parks, neighborhoods and along the massive lake, I finished with a time of 1:27.58, a PR in my nacient career as a runner. What I came away with that day was more than a satisfactory time - it was a sense of pure enjoyment, a feeling of relief, a regained confidence in myself and my fellow man.
To the observer, the activity of running is quite simple. Yes, it requires technique, but requires little to no coordination like almost all other sports do. Many in the running community debate form and footwear and its suspected benefits to the efficiency of the athlete. We can analyze and hypothesize, but the fact is that many run without getting into the specifics. I have to say that I am a bit of both, a runner who likes the technicalities and the philosophy of the human in motion. Running has become a giant part of my life, in a time where I have struggled and triumphed within myself, moving down a path of self doubt, discovery and growth.
I found running quite spontaneously, at a point where I simply wanted to stay fit. Back in October of last year, I was playing in a local soccer league. I was happy to continue with soccer out of college, but soon found myself on a team with too many players and not enough playing time as a result. I decided I would not continue, and was left with a good chunk of time on Sundays/Mondays, my weekends given while working at the shelter. I began running down by the river sporadically during the week in the pair of Nike Free 7.0s I had picked up over the summer.
In high school, running was punishment in baseball, so naturally, I built up a subtle hatred for it. In college, I played sports to stay fit, and thought little of training outside of practice and games. Starting to run solely for the sake of running was foreign to me, yet I grasped it subconsciously I guess, and continued on. October turned into November and I was still running. I entered my first race ever, the Jingle Bell 5k walk/run on November 20th. I remember it to be a grueling race, all 3.1 miles of it. After climbing what to me now is a bump in the road, I heaved on the side of the trail, so close to the finish. I did finish, and really felt the effects in the days that followed. Through the first 6 weeks of my running life, I had run for no real reason that I knew of and had completed a race in the process.
