"So was it fun?"

I don't know.  What is fun?    Sitting around with friends on a back porch on a warm night with cold beers and good conversation -- that's fun.  Reading a good page-turner with nobody to bother me --- that's fun.  Going out for sushi is fun.  I don't know if running for almost half an hour can be fun.  I didn't enjoy the sensations, exactly.  

I'm glad I did it.  It was satisfying.  I would like to do it again.  I don't know why I would like to do it again.  I feel like I ought to know why if I'm going to.  Is that crazy?

"Look," says Mark.  "You're going to have to re-evaluate your image of yourself.  You've been writing a lot about developing a self-image of an athlete -- about convincing yourself that you can be an athlete, to motivate yourself.  You've been telling people to fake it till they make it.  You're going to have to face the reality that you've made it.  You aren't just 'developing a self-image as an athlete.'  You are an athlete."

"I don't know," I say.  "Does one race make me an athlete?"

"Look at the numbers, Erin," he says.  (Oh yes, he knows how to get to me.)  "Our results aren't in yet, but we can extrapolate.  Last weekend was the Get in Gear race.  One thousand fifty-four women ran the 5K.  Where do you think your time yesterday would have placed you?"

"Um, right about in the middle maybe?"

"One hundred twenty-first."

I was silent.

"There was a 10K too.    If I convert your 5K pace to a likely 10K time -- it's not just twice the time, it allows for the fact that everybody runs a 10K slower than a 5K -- where do you think that would place you?"

"I don't know."

"People don't do 10Ks as a fun run'n'walk.  The 10K runners are serious runners."

"Where would that place me?"

"Out of 1,768 women, that would place you at number 660."

"Better than half?"

"Better than half."

"I just can't believe it."

Mark went on, "Face it, Erin, you are going to have to start to see yourself as a person who is generally athletically competent."

The truth is, I'm deeply unsettled by this.  It's like I'm a person I don't know.   Swimming never did this to me because, well, it was something entirely new that I learned as an adult.  I've learned lots of new things, so there's nothing weird about one more.  I've lifted weights in the past and seen myself get stronger and been pleased by it.  Nothing terribly upsetting about that.  But running?

"The difference is that with swimming and lifting, you're unburdened by memories of past failure," chuckled Mark.

I guess so.  I tried to explain to Mark, and it took a couple of times before I think he really believed me, that running or performing in any way feels worse, not better, in front of a shouting crowd.  It is so hard to see it as cheering and so easy to see it as jeering.  Not a rush of adrenaline but a flush of embarrassment -- I have to remind myself that I am not, actually, embarrassing myself.  I am still the sixth grader who couldn't run even once around the track.  Close my eyes and I'm easily back to the longest sixty seconds in ninth grade, trying to make just one free throw so I won't fail the basketball section of P.E., all the other ninth graders standing in a grinning arc on the three-point line, watching me throw and miss and retrieve the ball and throw it again.  The worst part was chasing down the ball in between throws.

So I am not really sure who I am now.  Am I a runner?  Already?  If I never run 5K again, am I still a runner?  Must it be a who I am or a what I do?  Do I do something else?  Do I keep running?   Do I try to run farther, or do I try to run the same distance faster?  Do I try a swim race next, see how that feels?  All of it is wrapped up in not understanding why I think I would like to run in a race again.  I know I would like to do it, but I do not know why, and that leaves me feeling odd, like I don't understand myself at all.

Comments

[Charlotte (Matilda)]

I am someone who has never been an athlete although I have always been naturally strong but I think I understand what you are talking about here and those feelings and memories that weigh on your heart. I don't have any answers for your questions but I do have an anecdote to share with you. Last Sunday, we saw one of our beloved Cistercian priests standing outside the monastery in his running clothes after Mass. He was obviously going to some kind of marathon or 5K, I'm not sure which. Mind you, he is one of the older monks who came over from Hungary in the 1950's to escape the Communist persecution. Anyway, I saw him this Sunday and asked him how is race went. His eyes lit up and a huge smile sprinted across his face. "Really well", he said. "I placed first in my age group!" And then he almost whispered, "I was older by 6 years than anyone else who finished." He was practically beaming! You could see how proud he was of himself. I don't know whether or not he considers himself an athlete but he was certainly proud of his accomplishment.

You said, "I know I would like to do it, but I do not know why, and that leaves me feeling odd, like I don't understand myself at all." Maybe you should just enjoy your feeling of accomplishment and see where that takes you.

[Kate]

As a latecomer to the story of your journey from 'sedentary to athlete', I found this post and the one before it really fascinating. I've never run myself, and for pretty much the same reasons you have trouble thinking of yourself as an athlete. I can barely stand to jog because I am sure I look ridiculous and that other people are laughing at me.

But...this is what I was thinking of reading this, thinking of the reasons I used to read your blog. Did you find any correlation between the way you handled your run (obviously very interior, self-contained, analytical) and the way you handle labor? I've often compared natural labor to running marathon and wondered (since I don't run marathons) whether that was a legitimate comparison. And if it is, maybe there's some of the same feeling at the end, (without the baby of course!) but that endorphin rush, feeling of well-being and accomplishment.

In any case, I'm impressed and inspired! And if I may suggest....since you already swim, maybe you could pick up a bicycle and train for a triathlon next?

[bearing]

Wow, these are great comments! Thank you!

I love the story of the Cistercian, indeed of anyone older who's still very physically active.

Labor -- I'll have to think about that. Watch for it in an upcoming post. As for biking, I already love bicycling and try to do a couple 30+ mile rides every summer. The thing that keeps me from thinking I want to do triathlons is that I don't much like open water swimming!

[laura]

I have been in denial for over 10 years that I am, in fact, "a runner". See? I still put quotes around it! I feel like actual runners are those people who can run in a bra and panties and still look athletic, long, tight, and lean. The truth is: anyone can be a runner. So, I AM a runner. No quotes around it! I just ran 20 miles last weekend in prep for the Grandma's Marathon! That's the most I've ever run in one shot before! I didn't even die! Good for you on your first race...you ROCK. You ARE a runner!