My Running History and Future

The first time I remember intentionally running was in San Jose, California around 1972 when I was in kindergarten. I preferred to run with the boys in the field instead of playing with the girls on the playground. One day, a boy was chasing me, but I was faster. I reached the edge of the school property, so I stopped. He tackled me. We wrestled. We got into trouble for what a teacher thought was fighting. After that, I don't think I kept running with the boys.

Years later, we moved to Bettendorf, Iowa. Just on the other side of our backyard fence was a large grassy area with a few large trees. It was like a community backyard enclosed by several homes who didn't have fences. That's where we often played with other neighborhood children. An older girl, who lived in one of the homes surrounding the grassy area, was on the high school track team. She set up hurdles to practice jumping them. She taught me how to run, put one leg forward and bend one leg back, and sail over those hurdles. I loved the feeling of flying. Unfortunately, I eventually fell and hurt one of my knees. I quickly lost interest in hurdles, but not in running.

When I was twelve, not long before we moved to Utah, I went to a fun sleepover birthday party for a school friend. We slept in tents in her older brother's huge backyard just across the Mississippi River in rural Illinois. We enjoyed a campfire and danced on picnic tables while listening to music. A group of boys our age just happened to be camping out in the field right next door the same night. Needless to say, we had a great time running back and forth between our camp sites, doing pranks, and being chased by them. I remember the gleeful ease of speeding away from everyone. I loved being able to run faster than the boys. I'd never felt so quick and strong.

The summer of 1982, I was about to become a sophomore in high school. I'd been on the freshman/sophomore basketball team the year before, but spent more time helping to keep score than playing actual games. I'd also started running in my neighborhood. It wasn't hard for me to run the mile and a quarter up the hill to Tanner Park near my parents' home, and then run back down again. I decided running, not basketball, was going to be my thing. That fall, I planned to join the track team.

Unfortunately, that didn't happen. On June 17th of that year, I was wearing flip flops, riding my bike as fast as I could on my way home from a summer babysitting job. My left foot slipped off the pedal and into the spokes of my front wheel. The bike immediately stopped, flipped tail over front, and I flew off. In the process, I broke two bones in my left foot. I had to crawl back to the house where I babysat. There, my foot swelled up like a balloon even though the mom helped me prop it up on a chair and put it in a big bowl of ice water. I spent that very sad summer babysitting and wearing a cast. Even after I healed, instead of becoming a runner, somehow along the way I became a reader. 

I did karate, bicycling, canoeing, and a lot of hiking in college, but didn't run on purpose very much. Since then, my husband and I have owned treadmills, but they've always been his thing. I've tried listening to music, reading, walking, and running on them, but that's too boring for me. I'm a visual person and don't enjoy a static view. When we lived in upstate New York, bicycling among the beauty of nature became my thing. 

For years, I wished I wanted to run, but really had no desire to try it again. I've greatly admired runners. I have siblings who have run marathons. My brother even accomplished a Guinness World Record and has been on Italian TV as the Knitting Runner. Yes, he can knit and run at the same time. I've admired runners in the neighborhood. When I was hiking last summer, I was in awe of all the trail runners. I knew I'd never try it; I was barely getting up those trails walking. I worried about my knees. I'd injured them and other joints a few times in various ways since jumping hurdles as a child. I'm also getting older and wasn't sure high-impact activities would be good for me. 

Then a month and a half ago, I bought an ultimate family pass at our local recreation center. I bought it for my daughter who has been suffering from severe anxiety and depression. I thought exercise would help her. I was willing to go with her, adding that to my regular walk-aerobics routine, to help increase her hope and happiness. She said she'd go with me, but she's only gone twice in the month and half since I bought the pass. 

I've kept going. I paid for the pass and wanted to make it worth the money. Walking around in circles on the gym track hasn't been very exciting, but it is slightly better than using a treadmill. I don't listen to music or podcasts, though I know I could. I like how friendly some of the people there have been. I like seeing people work out in various ways around the gym. Even so, since my purpose for going wasn't coming with me, I wondered if it was worth going. 

The idea of running started vaguely, almost accidentally. I realized the only way it would be worth going to the gym every day was if I wasn't just walking. I could run a little. That was something I couldn't easily do inside my house. It gave me a reason to leave home to exercise.

I have to say, I don't know if you'd actually call what I do "running." It's more like jogging, but I'm calling it "joggling." That's jogging with a jiggle. I'm pretty slow.

At first, I could barely jog around the track nonstop one time without feeling like I was going to pass out. Gradually, over a couple of weeks, I increased my distance to three times around. I started feeling proud of myself. I took a week off when I got worried about twinges of knee pain, but started up again the following week. 

After that, joggling started to feel intentional. I wondered how far I could go. I wondered how many times around the track is a mile. I soon learned it's 17.5 laps around. Now I'm up to 8 1/2 times around without needing to walk. So I'm not quite to 1/2 mile, but I'm sure I'll be there soon. I'm paying close attention to my body and not pushing myself too hard to avoid potential injury.

The three-month family pass expires June 11th. My goal before then is to be able to run those 17.5 laps, one mile, without stopping. After that, the plan is to keep running. By then it'll be warm enough to run outside. What comes next? At this point, I have no desire to run a marathon, but I might surprise myself.

I am beginning to develop a dream. We're going to a beach house for a week this summer. I'm starting to wonder if I might be able to run on the beach. The more I think about it, the more I'd like to make that a reality.

At the very least, it feels nice to want to run.