Runners surround me. Many describe their relationship with the sport as a love affair. They ran as kids, as adolescents, and some ran on scholarship at college. They thrive on the energy, power, and freedom that running affords them. When they speak about it, they are passionate and inspiring.
And at first, it made me green with envy. I wanted to fall in love with running and effortlessly bound away together into a Boston Qualifier sunset. Yet, my path is different—more akin to an arranged marriage.
I say an arranged marriage because I didn’t really choose running. I chose triathlon and running came as part of the package. And to be honest, I didn’t really like it. It hurt my feet, my lungs, and my undertrained muscles. Parts of it intimidated me. But, there we were, paired together for the long haul unceremoniously.
Yet, as my training rolled by, I earned an appreciation for it. I liked how it shaped my body and balanced out my swimming and cycling. And appreciation grew into respect. Okay, in full transparency, running demanded respect—to the tune of several side-lining injuries. Yet, each return to the sport transformed my respect for running into like. I felt the energy, power, and freedom that was previously incomprehensible. And then, as I collapsed across the finish line of my first New York City Marathon in a sweaty, exhausted, deliriously happy puddle, like turned into love. A deeper love than I could have ever hoped for.
Rekindle your own love story with running this February—maybe you don’t even like running right now, or are locked in a lover’s quarrel, or think it has cooties. But lace up and give running a fresh chance. You just might feel differently at the end. As they say, distance makes the heart grow fonder.
Thank you to Carly, from our apparel marketing team for sharing her running love story!