On Running
You may not know this, but running is a world of its own. Case in point, a friend invited me to supper a few weeks back with a bunch of his friends that I had never met. A free seat was to my left and only one guest was missing. Her pals, seated at the other side of the table, pitied their unpunctual pal, thinking she would spend the evening dining next to strangers. Lo and behold, the late-comer was a girl from my running clinic! And so we chatted most of the evening about running, quite an enjoyable conversation for both her and I. Later that evening another girl, my running-buddy’s friend, introduced herself as Catherine “who doesn’t run but is still an interesting girl.” Her introduction somewhat puzzled me. Had Caroline and I been so engulfed to make others feel left out? Maybe so. Or maybe they just couldn’t possible understand…
Training for the Montreal half-marathon made me realize the interesting intimacy runners come to acquire of their city’s streets. We come to recognize the patterns of the pavement. We know the potholes, cracks and patches. We know where to expect a slight slant on the length of a street, something to which car drivers are completely oblivious. Traffic, and the people and cars who compose it, are transitory entities; they pass, while we run, and then re-run. We know our city streets like no other.
I did 1:02:42 at the Montreal half-marathon. I improved my time from the Quebec City half by 2 minutes. I’m proud of that, but a bit disappointed to not have done it under 2 hours. Why, just 1:59 would have satisfied me. Really, I shouldn’t complain. I ran the Montreal race with a cold. The day before I felt like I was entrapped on a boat, walking to the rhythm of uncontrollable waves. I missed our clinic’s pasta supper. I was resting, saving all my energies for the next day.
Only a runner will know the inebriating effect running has on the runner. I once went running with a hang-over. Moaning and complaining all the way to my run (I was meeting up with some friends), I ran our Saturday morning 5 K without any trouble. My body wasn’t tired and my head didn’t ache. The feeling my brain was a dried-up raisin came back once the run over, but while I was running I felt fine! And that is how I ran Montreal: I felt fine!
That is to say, my head did and sinuses felt fine. My quads starting feeling very stiff after the first 5 K. Especially on my left side. I’ve never had such stiffness before. Then my left knee starting hurting. At 17 K, we had a long stretch along PieIX to do. I had never realized before that PieIX is a hill. It’s a very subtle hill, but it’s inclination is constant and long. At this point I was tired. I started having trouble breathing. That’s only ever happened to me while I was doing hills. PieIX shouldn’t have been an obstacle, but it was. I loss pace. By the end of the race I was happy and limping. My left knee was very soar and remained that way for 2 days. My legs were stiff, which was not the case after Quebec. My body ached of a cold and two half-marathons in two weeks. I was due for a little break.
After Montreal, I didn’t run for a week. It felt good. But it felt better to start up again. It felt… natural. My body propelling forward, quads filled with blood and legs speeding up, and the world passing by in my peripheral view. On my first run I started thinking about running and cartilage and everything runners do to preserve their knees: cross-training, work-out breaks, supplements, anti-inflammatory pills, running on asphalt over cement and grass over asphalt, expensive high-tech shoes, knee braces, and so on. Some try to make us believe that running isn’t natural because it uses up our cartilage and damages our bones and ligaments. I’m suspicious of these claims. We are upright mammals equipped with all the bodily material needed to run. What can be more natural than running? Moreover, I am suspicious of them because it is when I run that I feel most natural. So much so that I now what to bring my running to different heights. I want to run in snow and cross-country. I want to run up mountains in the dark with a headlight on my cap. I want to deviate rocks rather than potholes. I want to smell wet autumn leaves rather than exhaust. Because I know, because I can feel that running is very natural. What isn’t natural in the least are asphalt, cement, and cars. No, I will not have a TV-watcher tell me running is unnatural, even if I’m aware that they can’t possible understand… unless they start running themselves! ;-)
This entry began after reading two great articles from the October Runner’s World issue (because running is a world of its own!) that I would like to share:
Running in Extremes: Danger
Running in Extremes: Dedication
Training for the Montreal half-marathon made me realize the interesting intimacy runners come to acquire of their city’s streets. We come to recognize the patterns of the pavement. We know the potholes, cracks and patches. We know where to expect a slight slant on the length of a street, something to which car drivers are completely oblivious. Traffic, and the people and cars who compose it, are transitory entities; they pass, while we run, and then re-run. We know our city streets like no other.
I did 1:02:42 at the Montreal half-marathon. I improved my time from the Quebec City half by 2 minutes. I’m proud of that, but a bit disappointed to not have done it under 2 hours. Why, just 1:59 would have satisfied me. Really, I shouldn’t complain. I ran the Montreal race with a cold. The day before I felt like I was entrapped on a boat, walking to the rhythm of uncontrollable waves. I missed our clinic’s pasta supper. I was resting, saving all my energies for the next day.
Only a runner will know the inebriating effect running has on the runner. I once went running with a hang-over. Moaning and complaining all the way to my run (I was meeting up with some friends), I ran our Saturday morning 5 K without any trouble. My body wasn’t tired and my head didn’t ache. The feeling my brain was a dried-up raisin came back once the run over, but while I was running I felt fine! And that is how I ran Montreal: I felt fine!
That is to say, my head did and sinuses felt fine. My quads starting feeling very stiff after the first 5 K. Especially on my left side. I’ve never had such stiffness before. Then my left knee starting hurting. At 17 K, we had a long stretch along PieIX to do. I had never realized before that PieIX is a hill. It’s a very subtle hill, but it’s inclination is constant and long. At this point I was tired. I started having trouble breathing. That’s only ever happened to me while I was doing hills. PieIX shouldn’t have been an obstacle, but it was. I loss pace. By the end of the race I was happy and limping. My left knee was very soar and remained that way for 2 days. My legs were stiff, which was not the case after Quebec. My body ached of a cold and two half-marathons in two weeks. I was due for a little break.
After Montreal, I didn’t run for a week. It felt good. But it felt better to start up again. It felt… natural. My body propelling forward, quads filled with blood and legs speeding up, and the world passing by in my peripheral view. On my first run I started thinking about running and cartilage and everything runners do to preserve their knees: cross-training, work-out breaks, supplements, anti-inflammatory pills, running on asphalt over cement and grass over asphalt, expensive high-tech shoes, knee braces, and so on. Some try to make us believe that running isn’t natural because it uses up our cartilage and damages our bones and ligaments. I’m suspicious of these claims. We are upright mammals equipped with all the bodily material needed to run. What can be more natural than running? Moreover, I am suspicious of them because it is when I run that I feel most natural. So much so that I now what to bring my running to different heights. I want to run in snow and cross-country. I want to run up mountains in the dark with a headlight on my cap. I want to deviate rocks rather than potholes. I want to smell wet autumn leaves rather than exhaust. Because I know, because I can feel that running is very natural. What isn’t natural in the least are asphalt, cement, and cars. No, I will not have a TV-watcher tell me running is unnatural, even if I’m aware that they can’t possible understand… unless they start running themselves! ;-)
This entry began after reading two great articles from the October Runner’s World issue (because running is a world of its own!) that I would like to share:
Running in Extremes: Danger
Running in Extremes: Dedication
posted by julie at
6:49 p.m.
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