The On-Again, Off-Again Love Affair with Running

-- Revised my entry about running after running this past weekend --

My love affair with running has been a rollercoaster ride since 2008. It started as a casual fling, a way to cope with the loss of my brother. There were no rules, no expectations, just pounding the pavement to numb the pain. This often left me injured and frustrated, leading to periods of separation. It felt like a cycle of using each other, ending in guilt on both sides.

Things got particularly rocky in 2012. We spent a lot of time together, but I wasn't fully invested. I toyed with the idea of a marathon, a supposed step up in our commitment, but balked at the official sign-up. Thankfully, an inner voice (or maybe my body?) intervened, urging me to plunge. I became a marathoner, and for the first time, running felt good.

That honeymoon phase was short-lived. A few months later, training for the Miami Marathon landed me in physical therapy. Desperate to maintain the connection, I even contemplated risky knee injections. Logic battled emotion – part of me wanted out, but flights, race entries, and accommodation were already booked. Miami became a chance to salvage the relationship.

It wasn't meant to be. The race was a disaster. My KT tape peeled off mid-marathon, and I missed my goal by a heartbreaking minute. Dejected, I shut running out again. This time, my running friends were a source of support, urging me to see the bigger picture. They envied our progress, some yearning for the kind of connection we shared.

Looking back, the early days were messy. Running knew the score – for most of 2013, I was a solo act, attending races but making no connections. Signing up for races was my way of appeasing it, a hollow gesture. After Miami, a stronger running emerged. It became more insistent, whispering about future marathons and personal bests.

Then came the unexpected twist – running started influencing my social life. Initially resistant, I gradually embraced the change. It began introducing me to fellow runners at races, building a network of like-minded people. It even started tracking our time together, ensuring our bond remained healthy. Slowly, appreciation blossomed.

We rekindled, and the results were transformative. Running led me to unforgettable experiences – running vacations, supportive friends, track classes, and a new running group—a husband. By December 2013, conquering my third marathon solidified our bond. This time, I achieved my goals, running with purpose and joy. I was in love. I ran two 50-mile ultramarathons and 2 half ironman distances to seal the deal.

Fast forward to 2024. Motherhood brought another hiatus, this time after the birth of my daughter. But four years later, the pull of the pavement proved irresistible. I laced up my shoes again, and running became a familiar partner. This time, I conquered the NYC Half Marathon, a testament to the enduring strength of our bond.

The future is uncertain, but I'm committed. Running has become my confidant, and I trust it completely. As a testament to this commitment, I signed up for numerous races this year. Here's to a journey that, hopefully, spans for decades to come.