The Evolution of a Runner

This morning I woke up, looked at the clock and saw it was 4:00 AM.

I gave a big sigh, rolled over and fell back asleep.

Today was the Philadelphia Rock N Roll Half Marathon.  For the first time in seven years, although I was registered, I didn’t run the half.

For the past seven years I woke up at 4:00 AM on this day and started prepping for the race ahead.  But not today.

I could blame my lack of attendance on injury.  A pain in my left foot has emerged over the past few weeks.  And at the end of an eleven-mile run on Friday, the pain became a swelling that demanded to be reckoned with.

Or the kid’s schedules.  Another Sunday equals another day of soccer games, basketball games and for Declan, High-5 soccer.

And honestly, out of all the races I do, the Rock N Roll is my least favorite.  It is always so humid.  I push through in weather that drains me, feeling awful.  I don’t give myself the lax I should when it comes to running in humidity.  Instead I beat myself up.  If I trained or prepared better, my run should be easier.

Or my biggest point of disgruntlement – having to drive downtown to center city and pick up my bib in person.  In years past, my husband, who works just a few blocks from the expo, was able to retrieve my bib without issue.  Last year a new rule was instituted.  And I found my white knuckles on the steering wheel driving through honking cars and pedestrians.  I showed my ID to a worker who didn’t even look at it and was given my bib.  My husband and I had planned to have lunch since I was downtown, but after a quick sprint through the chaos of Reading Terminal Market, and no food later, I opted for what I wanted most.

“I just want to get out of here.”

I put my bib on the passenger seat, paid $27 for parking and worked my way through the honking cars and pedestrian traffic of the city.  Knowing I never wanted to do that again.

This year, I let the negatives pull me down.  I chose not to drive through the busy city instead of the satisfaction of finishing another race.  I chose foot pampering over another medal.  I chose to stand in the heat on the sidelines of soccer instead of my purple sweaty racing face.

I have run through injury before.  Hot, sweaty and hobbling with horrible plantar fasciitis.

I could have made the kids schedule work.

I could push through the heat – one more time.

Seven years ago, I would have just accepted my fate that I would have to drive downtown to retrieve my bib.  All I would be thinking about was my excitement for the race ahead.

This year, I didn’t feel the excitement.

What’s happening to me?

I, who has defined myself as a runner, have always been excited for race day.  I used to have a whole blog dedicated to running and racing!

Am I going through an evolution?  The evolution of a runner?  Is there one?

I still run a lot.

But the idea of racing just drains me.  And I’m talking really, just the idea – the thought – nothing else.

I’m slower than I was when I started.  I push so hard to stand on common ground.  I just don’t want to do it anymore.

I want to stand on a new ground.  The ground that accepts the phrase, “I love to run” and could care less what the clock says.

Problem is, I feel like I have been saying this for years.  So, today I took a new approach.  I didn’t show up.

I don’t know where this evolution ends.

Maybe when the cooler temps come I’ll find I run faster, happier.  Maybe I’ll want to race again.

Maybe at that race I’ll want to push it.  Maybe I won’t.  And I’ll be okay with that.

Maybe I’ll just stick to my own runs.

Where my running will go, I don’t know.  But I do know one thing for certain.

If I can, I will always be running.