On Running

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Do you run?

Since moving to Denmark, I've started running again.  I used to run when I was seventeen, sporadically, and then after I was married, but before Isaac was born.  I did laps around our college town, and through the neighborhoods surrounding our little apartment.  I always met my neighbor on these runs, the guy who lived in the white house on the corner whose name I can't remember.  I do, however, remember the name of his dog.  She was a beautiful Airedale Terrier named Mia, after the soccer player.

After Isaac came along I switched over to an elliptical, which is not at all the same thing.  I grew to hate it, because, well you know - all that endless movement while going nowhere, in fact, while staring at the wall.  And then we moved to Denmark: the country wherein it seems everyone either runs marathons or cycles professionally.  Because Denmark is often overcast and windy, not to mention the terrain is flat-as-a-pancake in many areas, it is the perfect place to start running.

And now I'm addicted.  I kind of love it.  So I thought I'd write a post on why I like it so much, but please bear in mind that I have yet to run farther than 21 km and most days I don't go more than 8, and I'm usually rather slow (I'm going to blame my short legs).  In list-form, then:

1. It makes me feel oh-so-good, in a different way than other forms of exercise.  I love it that I can just put my tennis shoes on, step outside my apartment, and I'm ready to go - I can start immediately, and I can stop again at my own front door.  Free exercise, free endorphins, free happiness.  I tend to equivocate this feeling with the one I get after an hour of uninterrupted sunshine.

2. I like the idea that my legs can take me there.  If I had to be somewhere (or at least somewhere 21 km away), I know for a fact I could get there on my own.  I might be completely useless once I've arrived, but I could do it.  There is something so gratifying in knowing this.  I'm not sure why; I don't anticipate having to run anywhere to save a life.  Maybe it's because I never knew I could until I tried.  That, and it makes me feel strong. 

3. It's my time to clear my head.  Whenever life gets crazy, running is a sure-fire way to calm myself down and straighten my thoughts out.  I'm sure there are days I look like a complete idiot, running around the neighborhood muttering to myself about work and bills and travel plans, or whatever, but at the end of the run I don't feel quite as stressed.  Suddenly things seem surmountable again.

4. I can challenge myself.  I think I must take after my dad, because I can be very competitive with myself.  (Yes, I am going to race myself and I am going to win.)  I've heard professional runners say that the harder they work, the better they feel when the run is complete.  Which makes sense.  My list of goals for next year - our last year in Europe - include running a marathon.  So we'll see.

5. There is just something about the open road.  Look at the photo up top and tell me you don't get that intense feeling to just go.  To see where your feet take you.


In the interest of full disclosure: yes, I did write this post in an attempt to motivate myself to keep running through the cold, dark Danish winter.