I Hate Running

In a paralyzing moment of unprecedented stupidity I signed up for the Tri-State Tough Mudder in November.  In case you are not familiar with what is “probably the toughest event on the planet” here is their description:

Tough Mudder is not your average lame-ass mud run or spirit-crushing ‘endurance’ road race. It’s Ironman meets Burning Man, and it is coming to a location near you. Our 10-12 mile obstacle courses are designed by British Special Forces to test all around strength, stamina, mental grit, and camaraderie. Forget finish times. Simply completing a Tough Mudder is a badge of honor.

WARNING: Tough Mudder is 3-4 times longer and MUCH TOUGHER than a typical mud run such as Warrior Dash. On average, only 78% of participants finish a Tough Mudder event. Only those in strong physical condition should enter.

What was I thinking?  These crazy Crossfit people have me believing I can do anything (and they seem to truly believe I can.)  But really, a Tough Mudder?!?  The Tri-State is 13 miles long.  That is a half marathon.  Let me reiterate so the weight of this has the correct impact.  13 miles of running with insane physical challenges (running through fire, 15 foot plank jump, running through 10,000 volt wires, underwater tunnels, scale 12ft high walls) all while being drenched in ice cold water in November.  Again, what was I thinking?

But I registered.  There’s no taking it back now.  I planned on doing it, eventually.  This is just a year sooner than I had imagined.  But I guess if I am going to do it I couldn’t be on a more supportive and encouraging team.  I know my friends will help me through it.  I am not afraid of the obstacles; I think I have a decent shot at most of them, but the running, oh the running.  I hate running.  There is nothing anyone can do on that day to help me with the running, unless someone carries me, oh that’s a thought. 

Fear is a great motivator.  I am not going to be the one who holds my team back.  I have 173 days until the Tough Mudder.  My training started today.  I've never enjoyed running.  I've never been good at it.  I learned at a very early age that if I hit the ball harder and further than everyone else I could run around the bases as slow as I wanted.  So running was never really an issue as long as I could run a few laps during practice.  I could always do enough to get by and blend into the runners at the end of the pack.  The older I got the less I “needed” to run, so I just didn’t do it.

For me running is a complete mental challenge.  As with most things, I get in my own way.  I don’t feel like a runner and I definitely don’t have the aptitude of a runner, especially for a long run.   All I do is beat myself up when I run.  Sometimes the music is the only thing that can cover up the sound of my ragged breathing and drown out those negative voices telling me I am not a runner.  Loud music is the only thing that can drown out the screaming voice telling me to walk.  My legs don’t feel like they are going to give up, it’s just my mind, telling me that I should be walking.  Running is such a foreign concept to me.

I have an absurd love hate relationship with running.  I despise it but so badly want to be able to run and call myself a runner.  I am not there yet and probably won’t be for a while.  My progress is slow.  Sometimes I think I can walk faster than I can run but runners don’t walk.  I often wonder what people think when they look out there windows and see me “running.”  I am slow and I often feel bad about how slow I am but then I tell myself it doesn’t matter because no matter how slow I go, I am doing it.  My motto is running sucks.  It really is, but I also say that it may not be fast, it may not be pretty but I’m doing it.  I am going to be doing a lot of it between now and November.  13 miles…what was I thinking?

Most days getting the courage to go out the door and run is really hard.  I’ve had a few days were I’ve walked to the end of my driveway and turned back because I just couldn’t handle the possibility of not being able to do it, so I just skipped it altogether.  Most days every step feels like a chore, and I don’t think I will be able to do finish without walking. Today was not that day.  This morning, I put one foot in front of the other and kept doing it.  I didn’t give myself the option to stop or walk.  My legs didn’t feel like they were cement.  My lungs didn’t feel like they were on fire.  Most importantly, my brain didn’t scream walk.   I ran 3.1 miles in 35:51.  I did this same loop 11 minutes faster than when I ran/walked for Feed the Need on April 2^nd.  This morning I felt like a runner for the first time.

I hate running.  I've got to get better at running and the only way to do that is... to run.  I’m a long way from being a runner but today, I will call myself a new runner.