I have never been a runner. In high school, when they’d make us run a mile, I’d walk it. The summer I was 15, I rode my bike 20 miles a day, and I still didn’t run. It was uncomfortable, it was unpleasant, and I didn’t like it.
A couple of years ago, though, when Slackmistress started the Couch to 5K program as part of her Post-Apocalyptic Workout, I thought, “Maybe I could do that.” And I tried it, and sometimes it wasn’t too bad, but mostly my shins hurt and my knees complained and even when I got my boobs properly strapped in (with the help of an industrial-style sports bra that holds everything firmly in place, but also shapes it into a rocket-nose-cone that any 50s sweater girl would envy), I could feel my belly pudge jiggling and it freaked me out, so I mostly walked.
Then came the 2009 Tevis, which I crewed for my dad. Over the course of the weekend, I discovered that running on dirt didn’t hurt the way running on asphalt does, and I started doing the occasional run on the beach. It wasn’t until I started reading about barefoot running, though, that I realized why running on dirt was different. It wasn’t because it’s a softer surface – it’s because when I run on uneven ground, I don’t land on my heel. One pair of Vibram FiveFingers later, I was running more often, even on concrete, with much less discomfort. I even started getting used to the way things jiggle.
Last fall, NovySan and I started running every night – just a mile, and if I’m being honest, I have yet to run that whole mile. I’ve discovered it’s much easier for me to run fast than slow, but I can’t keep up the pace for a mile. So, I sprint, then I walk, then I sprint some more, and over time, I’m not only managing longer sprints, I’m also getting stronger, which helps me jog more comfortably as well.
I’ve had no knee pain in a long time – all those hours in the gym have definitely paid off in that respect. But the shins have had many, many things to say to me, all of them unpleasant. Google tells me that’s due to tight calf muscles, which I definitely have, so I’ve been stretching them and it’s been helping, but I obviously haven’t been stretching them enough, because Sunday night, half a block into my run, I felt as though someone had stabbed me in the calf with a hot knife.
It wasn’t a cramp. It was a strain, and thankfully a mild one. Five days later, it’s still sore, but I’ve been able to walk a bit and I went to KungYo Wednesday night without ill effect. Actually, the yoga helped a lot.
What makes me think I can call myself a runner now, though, despite not being very good at the actual running part, is that this is the first sports injury I’ve ever had, if I define a sports injury as an injury received as a result of physical activity, which makes it impossible or difficult to continue doing that activity until it heals. And my reaction to receiving said injury was an internal moan of, “But… but… This means I can’t run for at least a week! And what about KungYo? No, I’m going to KungYo, even if all I can do is sit on the sidelines and watch. I wonder how long I should wait before I get back on my bike, or the elliptical? Aw, man, I was really looking forward to BodyCombat, too!”
Come to think of it – maybe I’m not just a runner. Maybe I’m actually an athlete.
