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Wednesday, September 19, 2018

runDisney Redoux

I have chronic feelings of restlessness. I like to be working towards something, because it brings structure and discipline into my otherwise self-indulgent existence. So because I'm an achiever, I decided to run a marathon. And after I ran the marathon, I thought, okay, I'm done now.

But it was the weirdest thing.

I missed running.

I like what training my body to do something hard had done for me. I hated that my marathon completion didn't feel like a real victory. (I walked the last five miles feeling like I was going to puke and barely clocked a sub-five, soooo.) I thought, I can do better. I registered for a half-marathon. I broke the sub-two threshold. I thought, I might be a runner. But I won't know for sure until I finish another marathon, this time the right way.

I started training on September 5. I'm using the Hal Higdon Intermediate I plan, which is new for me because I have never worked out six days a week before. I asked my cousin--a Higdon devotee--why there were so many junk miles in the plan, and he rhetorically inquired what a junk mile was. I'm still in the shiny and enthusiastic phase where nothing hurts too much yet, I'm seeing immediate gains, and the mileage isn't so long that I can't have a social life. The temperature and the light outside is perfect. I know it's about to get harder, and then much, much harder.

Support makes running easier, though. My mom and my sister came to cheer me on last year, and I could have cried when I saw their faces on Main Street USA. This year I recruited my brother to run, and he texts me his running diary. My boyfriend gives me wake up calls to make sure I get going on time for those early morning workouts, and he always listens attentively when I am droning on about plyometric exercises and injury worries and how I think I'm getting faster. "You are getting faster!" he texts me, with a bicep emoji.

If I'm a runner, I'm still a relatively new one. I feel like there's so much I don't know. How long and at what intensity should I bike on my cross-training days? What rep and weight goals should I have for my strength training regimen? Is it okay if I don't do my long runs slowly so long as I'm doing a speed and intensity that feels good? Is it really necessary that I use protein powder if I'm consuming 50 grams of protein a day anyway? I don't own a foam roller--am I actually really a runner?

When I don't feel like running, I listen to Kelly Roberts' pep talks. She reminds me that running is not complicated, but it is still important, because it is a tool to help us understand ourselves and strengthen our character. I listen to podcasts about history, or culture, or technology, or faith. I listen to hymns or worship songs. Sometimes I run without anything in my ears, and I breathe deep and look at the sky and focus on my footfall. Sometimes I pray.

How running helps me work out my faith is a very strange thing. I don't feel like it's accurate to call myself a runner. I feel like I'm never far from breaking the routine I've created: I skip one run and that's it, I've fallen off the wagon. But it's funny that I don't feel it's inaccurate to call myself a Christian. I've been trying to be one my whole life, after all. And yet, for the month of September, it might be accurate to say I've been more faithful to my training schedule than my daily devotional. I am hopeful that learning how to discipline myself to be a runner will help me discipline myself to be a better Christ follower. Much good running advice is also good faith advice: don't try to do more than you can, remember your why, push yourself to your mental limit, acknowledge your limitations, rest and refuel, keep trying and don't become discouraged.

I think running is good for my body, and my mental wellbeing, but I think the most compelling reason to stick with running is that it seems to be good for my faith.

runDisney remains prohibitively expensive. Because of my work schedule, I am flying in late Friday night, cheering on my brother Saturday morning, picking up my bib Saturday afternoon, running Sunday morning, flying out Sunday afternoon. Because my mom is a genius, we are staying at Hilton Bonnet Creek, where their marathon rates allow for late checkout at 2pm. Also proximity to Disney Springs should give us something fun to do Saturday afternoon during our down time. Flight + ground transportation + hotel + race registration means this weekend will cost approximately a grand per person--yikes!

But I'm a little boujie, and everyone needs their carrot on a stick.

Tuesday, June 5, 2018

Becoming a runner

I went back to the gym after a few months away to get back on the treadmill. I mean the dreadmill. No, just kidding, I love it.

When I was marathon training I did my maintenance runs at 10 minute mile pace, and did my speed training/interval runs at 8 minute mile pace. That was tough for me, but I finished my first marathon sub-five and thought maybe I would keep at the running thing. When I went back to the road for the nice spring weather, I threw pacing out the window and just did what felt manageable--usually starting out fast and gradually bottoming out from inability to breathe. It was not great.

To make it worse, I was training for a half marathon while traveling internationally and I was barely getting maintenance runs in. I felt like I needed to push myself to make gains and be halfway prepared to finish the half, but I put all hopes of a sub-two hour PR on ice, because I knew I just wasn't ready. I struggled to finish six miles the Thursday before my Saturday race.

Then the race happened and something clicked--I warmed up, I kept a consistent and sensible pace, I ended up averaging 8:35/mile and met my goal of a sub-two half while feeling fly. I was staggered by how easy it was. And when I went back to the treadmill this week, I started at a 8:00/mile and kept it there with ease for the whole 50-minute duration of my run.

Whattttt???

I think I might be becoming a runner.

These are not things that I ever thought that I could do. Run a marathon. Set a PR goal for myself and meet it. Be able to run at a 8:00/mile pace and feel comfortable. I never thought I'd be logging twenty-mile weeks, or even be able to commit to running more than just once a week. I still hate running. Doesn't everyone? It is boring and it is painful. But it is downright addictive to watch your body get stronger and tougher, to experience the acculturation to the distance and impact and speed.

It makes me feel like growth is possible. I love House, M.D. and I so relate to the title character's mantra, "People never change." We have heaps of evidence that that is true, that humans are creatures of habit and that when change happens it often happens sloooowwwlyyy. But the act of trying something new and sticking with it and eventually seeing improvement, it is defiance to the bent of entropy, that maybe we can get stronger if we just try, and keep faith. 

I'm not saying I'm a runner just yet, but I like the idea. 

Monday, March 5, 2018

How to need people

I have a friend-mentor. We're friends who connect over the marvelous idiosyncrasies we share, but this friend is also a mentor who tells me those things about lawyering and being a new lawyer that you can't learn from law school or more experienced practitioners. I text him with some frequency asking questions about logistics and procedure, and each time I hit him with a, "I'm sorry to bother you with this question!" And he comes back each time with, "Of course no problem homey." After a few rounds of this, he once said, "If you think it is remotely possible for you to annoy me with a question, you vastly underestimate how much I value you and your friendship." 

Oh yeah, I'm like tearing up just thinking about it right now. That's a good friend, y'all. But also, you see what's wrong with me, right? I don't know how I came to think of relationships as transactional. 

This is my problem: I am a little bit allergic to asking people for help. And I recognize intellectually that this is a weakness of character: people need people, ain't no way around it, and it is a sign of poisonous pride to retreat from others into self-sufficiency. My parents have taught me that my whole life. So I don't know how exactly I came to be so squeamish about requesting time and attention from others. Maybe one day, if I ever get around to the therapy I probably need, I will be able to put my finger on where this flaw came from. But I have flickers of moments where my need forces me to be humble and I choose to feel gratitude over guilt

For example, I cannot even say how good it felt when . . .

A friend offered to drive me to the train station and listened to me as I unburdened some baggage I didn't feel comfortable sharing with anyone else.
My roommate rubbed my back and put her coat over my shivering shoulders when I got violently ill from an allergic reaction.
My other roommate got ready for her day a few hours early so she could drive me to the airport before work.

None of these acts were solicited by me--I was given the gift of active consideration--but in being forced to accept such gifts I also experienced how it can be a good and touching thing to be dependent on others. It is my choice, to feel good to be shown and to accept care, rather than to feel guilt for inconveniencing another person. When I choose guilt over gratitude what I'm really saying is, "I don't trust that you care. I think you're selfish like I'm selfish. I don't need you because I'm doing okay trying to be perfect on my own over here." Such ugliness. Relationships are not a fair trade. There is no balancing of scales and keeping a ledger with the people you love. If your heart is soft toward others, you give help and accept help and ask for help freely, and all those things are connected.

I often struggle with the intersection between the power of the Holy Spirit to change our hearts and make us to good, and our own personal responsibility to choose to do good. Where is God in those moments when I am too weak or lazy or ignorant to choose to do good? It was pointed out to me that I've neglected an important variable from my calculus: God commands us to community because we need other people to help us choose good and support us when we are weak. This requires a heart soft towards others. 

I want a soft heart. I want to help other people. I want to grow in my sanctification. And paradoxically, it seems that also means seeking and accepting the help and care of those who freely love me.