Tuesday, January 26, 2010

I Am a Runner (And So Can You!)

The title is a parody off Stephen Colbert's book "I Am America (And So Can You)", but if you would like you can substitute "G- day minus 143/ How I started running and why you can start," but I think the title I picked is much more interesting. I've never read the book, by the way.

I don't know what you would call the beginnings in running. It all started in middle school when I would "run," under supervision from my Adapted Gym teacher before school in the weight room. You see, because of my AVM and subsequent stroke severely damaging my cerebellum, I had to relearn to walk first, then try and run. So, there I was, in the South View weight room, both hands on the treadmill handrails to make sure I didn't fall, churning out the 16:00 miles. This is probably where my contempt of the treadmill comes from, but that's just my guess.

After that, I started running with the Courage Center track team, and to be sure, I was a train wreck the first few years. Having a weak, maybe nonexistent cerebellum, I wasn't able to run straight so I was almost a sure- shot to false start every race by coming out of my lane at one time or another. However, I had a really great coach who was actually a St. Thomas grad and a Red Sox fan. So I think that was what kept me coming back twice a week- knowing that I could talk Sox with him week after week. Running wasn't something that came naturally to me- with an awkward gait, the left side that really did anything it wanted on account of hemi- parisis , and staggering around like a drunken sailor, I was a lost cause before I started. Yet for whatever reason, I suck with it- I'm not sure, but it was probably a combination of fear of failure and my mom forcing me to get out of bed. I wasn't fast, I was close to 15 seconds for a hundred, 45 seconds in the 200, and God knows how slow in the 400, if I could even keep it together for that long. I was slow, but getting faster in my group for sure. I had gotten my stride down, was a regular at practice, was sitting pretty finishing every practice interval in first, I even won a couple races at Junior National competitions.

However, I got put in my place pretty quickly. Two consecutive years, I had to miss the Junior National qualifying meet because of other sports obligations. I was thrown in a Bloomington Kennedy High School JV meet as an afterthought. I ran well enough to qualify for every event, but got blown out of the water in every event as well. Including, the 800. My coach convinced me to run it, but he wasn't at the track at the first High School meet I ran in, so I scratched out of it, hoping he wouldn't care. The next year, I still was afraid to do it, but my coach was there so I had to run it to impress him, if nobody else. In fact, I was scared to do everything. After last year's debacle, I didn't want to get shown up again, I wanted to pack it in, crawl in the equipment shed and cry. But I didn't. I ran and qualified for every race, but got blown out of the water again, no contest. My parents were really happy for me, and I wanted to be happy too, I really did, but I was apathetic for the most part. I went on to win some races, and lose some races in Tampa, FL, that year, but I really didn't care because I knew there were bigger fish to fry. I hate losing, and that fall from grace is never easy, but it hit me especially hard. To be winning on a national stage (however small, I thought it was the greatest thing in the world) to being blown away by JV kids was especially demoralizing.

I continued to go to track, and although I lost my coach, we had several new ones. One was a triathlete who held endurance in high esteem, and praised me for taking the sport so seriously. We did our warm up runs off the track, on streets, trails, whatever, which rekindled my love for the sport. The next coach we had was a charity runner, who scolded me for taking running so seriously, preaching to have fun, but to me that wasn't what it was about because there were guys out there that were faster than me and I knew I could beat them!

When I severed ties running for Courage Center, I went to St. Thomas student orientation. I hated it. Three days of staying in the dorms, attending boring info sessions, pretending everything was all hunky- dory. We had a lot of time on our hands. So, what do new college kids do when they're parents aren't around? Drink beers and make stupid decisions of course! Well, that didn't solve my problems because I can't drink due to the fact that my brain is wired nobody knows how. So, I decided to put on a pair of tennis shoes, a T-shirt, and gym shorts and tried to make a night out of it. Mind you, the farthest I've ever run before this was a mile or so. I ended up going, by my calculations, 5 miles in about an hour. I did five one mile loops around campus and got lost. I had tons of blisters. I loved every minute of it. I was hooked. Nobody was like me and I knew it, so I'd do something to make a name for myself- everybody wants to be somebody. I don't know if that's worked or not, but I'm still running, finding time to just be myself, not "that one crippled kid"for just one hour a day- the most valuable hour of my life.

When I talk about running, I always here people say "how can you do that?" or "I don't think I've run X miles in my life." Well, the point of this whole post is you can! and if I don't get that message across, sorry, I wasted your time, sue me. But the truth of the matter is, everyone's trying to get away from something, whether its a stressful class load, a broken relationship, or as in my case, the past. We all need time to be ourselves, be alone with ourselves without worrying about what our friends say, or who's dating whom, or what Taylor Swift wore at the Grammy's- we all need time to slow down, refocus and re prioritize. So, that's why you do it, the next question is how.

Get yourself a nice pair of running shoes- go to a specialty store, get a pair that's just for you, and cherish them like your baby. Put those shoes on, and just put one foot in front of the other. You know, in the book "Once a Runner," Bruce Denton said "the secret is this... there is no secret." There's no magic potion that will denote you as a runner, you just have to put in countless miles of training. It'll be ugly, and you'll fight for little victories. "Run to the corner of the street and back without stopping," or something like that. Don't get discouraged. The next thing you know you'll be running to the next street corner, and soon the next, and the next... Set a goal and strive for it, and when you reach it, set another one. Sure, you might look like you don't know what you're doing for the first week or so, but that's okay, having the courage to get out there is 3/4 of the work, running is the easy part. Yes, you might, and probably will fail, but hell, if you read this far you know it happens to the best of us. Read a book! get inspired! meet another runner and run with him, we don't bite. Runners are the nicest group of people you'll ever meet, and there's no "doing it wrong" to be afraid of. But above all, remember this: If a kid who was in a coma 14 short years ago all but pronounced dead, if a kid who has no cerebellum, if a kid who the best medical professionals in the world said couldn't walk, let alone run, you sure as hell can!


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