If I keep holding out … will the light shine through?

Yes. If you keep holding out, the light will shine through. (Apologies to stealing a lyric from my favorite band.)

I frequent a beginner’s running message board.  Helping out new runners is the way I give back to the sport I love.  As a frequent contributor, I find that it is not uncommon to see a post or two fairly regularly where the individual is trying to either a) simply vent about a bad run or b) figure out why a bad run happened c) or both.

A run might go “bad” because you didn’t make the distance you set out for. Or because you just subjectively felt badly. Maybe you didn’t run as fast as you wanted. Maybe you had to walk. Maybe you had to stop. Maybe you even got physically sick.

Been there. Done that. Want the short list? Failed my first attempt to go 20 miles. Have had numerous poor runs coming off chemo. Been humbled by lung inflammation into walking when I didn’t want to walk. Been bent over at the side of the road, hands on the knees, gasping, hoping my heart doesn’t come up my throat and jump out of my mouth (done that one more times that I would like to remember). Threw up blood a couple weeks ago on the trail. Have wondered what I was running for.  Have seriously questioned WHY the heck I was running. Have wondered whether I’d ever improve. Have gone weeks and weeks where getting out the door was a feat that seemed equivalent to scaling Everest. Have had runs ruined by stomach cramps, annoying injuries, bad shoes, the weather, work, school …

“Bad” runs happen for many reasons. When you have one, it is the sign of a good runner to be upset about them and/or to want to figure out why it happened. Often at this time of year the culprit is the weather. Hot weather is generally not conductive to good running. Sometimes it is a matter of hydration or nutrition. Many times there is no easy answer; sometimes there seems to be no answer at all! Frustrating!! Beginning runners (and the veterans out there can always use the reminder) should take comfort in knowing that bad runs happen to all of us. You can also take comfort in knowing that they play with experienced runners’ psyches too. I cannot stress enough that if you want a sport that’s “easy” and full of rapid, easy rewards, you’re probably not really cut out to be a runner. Running is a sport that requires, and rewards, struggle and patience. Sometimes it is very hard and all you can do is “suck it up” and acknowledge that fact.

So while understanding and acknowledging the usefulness of discussing “bad runs,” I wanted to post about their opposite. The good run.

I had a good run today. Let me tell you about it.

It was set up from the beginning to be a good run. For one thing, I forgot to start my watch. For another, I had on my favorite red running shirt and a brand new pair of running shoes. Does a runner need much else? Oh yes. I also had on my favorite pair of shorts.  (Wouldn’t want you to think I was running half naked through the woods!) As I took off into the woods, I spotted a doe with two fawns. These fawns were so new that their spindly legs were still not fully under control. They very well could have been born just hours ago.

I didn’t bring my ipod, so my only “companions” were the sound of my feet lightly striking the packed dirt or crunching over the occasional gravel patch and the rhythm of my breathing. Every once and awhile, I would be joined by a bird or a chipmunk. A kingfisher cautiously watched me pass from a perch on a dead tree limb. A cardinal that was the color of my running shirt scolded me when I startled him from some ground cover. And I played “chicken” at least twice with a chipmunk that couldn’t decide … right or left.

As I ran, the day broke around me. The sun came up red. It was already warm and somewhat humid. Depending on my angle and elevation, sometimes the sun was just above the tree line. Sometimes it was below. On the way back, the sun was higher and at my back and was like a strong force, radiating off me.

The Rocky River (by turns depending on how often it has rained) moves with a rushing, roaring alacrity as though it needs to meet some critical deadline; it can also be as sluggish as a kid enjoying the final days of summer vacation. The Rocky River is like a living thing. It changes, sometimes subtly, sometimes noticeably day to day. Today it was slow and quiet and the water level was low; the namesake stones and boulders protruded upwards below its flat and placid brown surface. Rising around me are the steep, ancient shale walls carved out by the River — a constant reminder that our time here is very brief, in the bigger scheme of things. At one particularly sluggish point in the river, a heron carefully and magnificently stalked through the shallows.

I came through the woods and finished the run. Don’t really know how far I ran; can estimate by the time it took for my log it was somewhere around 8 miles. Don’t know exactly how long it took — just have a vague idea. But in the end, none of that really matters. For this was, unquestionably, a GOOD run.

I retrieved a previously frozen bottle of water from the car; it was now part water, part ice block, with small droplets on the side that mirrored the droplets of sweat on my wrist and dripped down my back. There is even something amazing and kind of neat to be found in the way your body maintains homeostasis, if you look for it.

Now, let a “veteran” runner give some unsolicited advice to any new runners out there.

You cannot expect every run to be a “good” one; that is expecting too much from running and will lead to disappointment. You cannot expect running to always be fun and easy. This is particularly true if you doing the type of running necessary to improve your race performances. But even those just running for “fun” will not always have a “good run.” Days will come where you don’t “feel” like running. There will be days when you don’t finish the distance or don’t meet a time goal because of a myriad of possible reasons. We all have those days. They are part of life. They are part of being human — you’re not a machine, you’re a feeling creature who’s body is subject to the weather, to the stresses in your life, to things you can and cannot control. And it is perfectly ok to be upset when running doesn’t go well. By all means analyze and learn from your mistakes.

Yet, let me caution you … if all you ever wish to judge your running by is the time on the watch or how far you’ve gone, you’re missing part of the sport and you’re probably never going to be satisfied. So, no matter how caught up you get in improving your running (whatever way you measure “improvement”, please don’t forget to every so often to just run for the pleasure of running. Run to watch the sun rise or set. Enjoy the pleasure of listening to your footfalls. Or the rhythm of your breathing. If you set out to have a “good day” and things don’t click, try again. You cannot force a “good day.” And know sometimes it may really be just a matter of the mind and how you are looking at things.

Because the same thing that produces your bad runs — being human — also is what produces your good runs.

So, every so often, slow down and savor and take pleasure in the fact that you are ALIVE and that you CAN run. Following this strategy may not empirically improve your race times, but I really believe it’ll make you a better and a happier runner and human being.

Tags: cancer, hematology, Hodgkin's Disease, oncology, Running, survival