I usually come back to where I did 8th grade and high school at Christmas time (only once did I not and I think that still haunts my mom to this day). When I'm here, I've usually come from cold weather be it in the mid-west or now the east coast so I soak up the warm southwest weather as much as I can mainly in the form of running. As I go through familiar paths around my house and the park nearby I'm always struck by my previous years of running out here.
I was a hurdler in high school, or as much as one can be at a D-3 school. I think I took on that role because, although I was quick, I wasn't really quick enough to be a solo sprinter (meaning the 100 or 200). The hurdles lowered the playing field some such that I was able to keep up and, sometimes even, win. I also think because of the skating I was somewhat groomed for that role and the jumping. My hurdling career was okay - I won some small meets (at least I think I did...) and made it to states once and almost once more.
Quick memory: I was in the finals in lane four, aka the fast lane, and about 7 hurdles in ate it hard core and thus did not qualify when I more than likely should have and could have my senior year. Remember that prior post about how I'm good, but never quite good enough sometimes... yea... that's another example.
Anyhow.
My track coach told us we had to run cross-country even if we where sprinters. I'm not quite sure if he really wouldn't have let us run track, but in high school if he said we had to do it, we did. So my junior year I ran it and my senior year I got pulled into it to make the numbers for state. Now, when I say that I was not good at cross-country, I don't mean that I was not winning but doing okay. I mean I was the last runner to cross on our team. I remember I broke 30 minutes one time and was hoping Kenny would be happy and proud. When I got pulled in my senior year and hadn't ran with the team so pretty much was not in shape, I think I finished states second to last. Out of EVERYONE.
I disliked the distance. I disliked the discomfort. I disliked everything about it and it was THREE MILES. I never trained, really, looking for ways to cut the runs short and just not try during them. I didn't pay attention to eating or drinking (a Pepsi afterwards was my favorite drink). I felt slow (and was) and out of shape (not sure if I was or just didn't try). I wanted to sprint and do track and cross-country was a necessary burden I barely tolerated.
I remember running the park and doing two loops, or just about 3 miles, for the first time and how it was an accomplishment but probably the last one of the season. I remember doing a workout up north while camping and being the slowest in the longer ones. I remember everything I disliked about it and some of the embarrassment. Now, honestly almost twenty years (!!!) later as I run I find it so ironic.
Yesterday I looped my park three times in an 8:33 pace and it just easy. On Monday I did a 7 mile run around my house, hills and valleys included, in 8:43 and stopped only once because the hill was HUGE and I didn't need to die. I will run at least once more here as well and it's always so amazing to me where I find myself now.
I love running. It is a part of my life that has been a constant for 13 years or so. I think about reaching out to my old coach and saying "Can you believe that I've tried to qualify for Bostons twice now and nearly have it and WANT to try again? That I willingly do tempo runs and 800 repeats after working 9 hours? I've run a 21 minute 5K and a 1:44 half marathon. I'm a 3:37 marathoner!" Me, that girl that didn't run a 5K in less than 10 minutes a miles most of the time. Me, that girl who only did what you asked because you asked. I wonder if he would even care, but to me it matters. It shows how much I have grown (and maybe how good I could have been...). It makes me happy to think that these roads I ran have finally felt like home in a place where I disliked nearly every step. It shows to me the power of running and the happiness that it can bring.
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