My Transition into a Runner
Hello. If you've found this blog, then you must be at least remotely interested in running, and
more specifically, trail running. That’s
awesome. I like those things too. Now we have something in common.
Seeing as this is my first exploit into the blog realm
(about 5 years behind everyone else), I’m going to introduce myself, and
attempt to shed some light on how I ended up on where I am today as a
runner. So, about myself. I’m 28 years old, I've been married for 3 ½
years, and I have a 19 month old son. I
live in Texas, I work in Internal Audit, and am also in the Coast Guard
Reserves; if it floats in the water, I can probably drive it. I have a Jack Russell Terrier and a Lab.
I can pinpoint both the point in my life where I realized
that I hated running, and also the point where I realized it was something I
loved, and needed on an almost daily basis.
It’s entirely possible that the level at which I hated running far
surpasses my level of affection for it now.
I despised running. There was
nothing I wanted to do less than go for a run.
Some clarity on this may help; my only exposure to running was found in
a hot South Texas summer with full football pads on, because someone on the
team dropped the ball, missed the catch, etc.
You get the idea. I was being
punished because someone else messed up, and running was the medium that this
was delivered through. What was there to
like? I wasn't the one who dropped the
ball, or missed the catch; see, I really just wasn't that good at
football. I was 6’4”, approximately 160
lbs, and was the second string Center on a team with a losing record. The first string guy was like a bowling ball with
an overabundance of aggression, so my lanky legs rarely touched the field. Given my stature I should have been a Wide
Receiver or a Corner Back, but the problem was my lack of speed. I was, and currently am, not a sprinter, so
that basically left me playing on the Line since all you had to do was stay
put. It just took me way too long to get
my long legs moving.
I should have taken the hint that nature gave me, and
realized that my forte did not lie on the football field, but I’m German, and as
my wife can attest, I have a somewhat high degree of stubbornness (a fantastic
trait for running ultras, I would find out 10 years later!). Cross Country, and swimming for that matter was
not where the popular kids were at, and so I stuck with it for all four years
of high school. Please don’t get me
wrong. I loved playing football, and have
always happy with my decisions. Some of
my very best friends to this day were from out there on the field. I have no regrets. Hindsight is 20/20 though…
About 3 years ago, I found myself a newlywed, working for
the State of Texas at a mind-numbingly boring job. I was going stir crazy, so I started looking
for other options. I grew up on the TX
Coast, and wanted to get more exposure to the salt than was what presently
available in Austin. After about 6
months of searching, I found myself enlisted in the Coast Guard Reserves, out
of shape, and about to ship for Basic Training.
So, I started running to get back in shape. I would run during my lunch break around the
UT campus area, and was logging around 3 miles a day. I found out, that in this scenario I didn't hate running; I looked forward to those runs, until overuse sidelined me with
two bum knees due to sore tendons (my first exposure to the wonderful world of
overuse injuries!). Basic Training came
and went in New Jersey, and it was good to get back home to my lovely, now pregnant
wife.
I got back from Basic Training, and was in the best shape of
my life, so I figured I’d keep up the running.
I would run 3 miles around Lady Bird Lake, and then call it quits. One day, I thought to myself “why not run 5
miles; it’s only 2 more...” I set out
for what was then the longest run of my life, having fully come to terms with
the fact that I would be moving forward for at least 40 minutes. I breezed through those 5 miles like it was
nothing. So over the next month, I decided to run
further (7 miles), and then further (9 miles), and then I finally hit the
illusive 10 mile mark, and felt great. I
realized that I didn't hate running at all.
I loved running around that lake.
I loved the sound of the gravel trail, the ducks on the pond, the rowers
on the lake; I just loved being out there.
When I was running, my mind would empty.
It was the simplicity of the run that kept drawing me back for more, for
longer. Little did I know that this new “hobby”
of mine would, not only still be around, but would grow exponentially over the
next couple of years.
I have made the transition from being recreational runner,
to running ultras. I have shaped and molded
my running preferences and beliefs through experience, and trial & error. I have transitioned from a runner with too
much gear, to a minimalist runner that only carries the bare essentials. I have weathered over-use injuries, pulled
muscles, mysterious pains & aches, and am still logging the miles
weekly. I look forward to continuing this blog; I hope you'll stick around.
