I Hate Running...There, I Said It!

Maybe it was because I spent most of my time last week running in the streetcar tracks on the cushy “neutral ground” of St. Charles Avenue in New Orleans, but when I set out for my run along the concrete, tourist-crowded sidewalks of Washington, D.C. yesterday, I was not enjoying it at all. In fact yesterday, I hated running. As I ran my 4.25 mile route (underdressed I might add, I’d gone from luscious 70 degree runs in NOLA, back to 47 degree runs in DC, and I brought shorts and a technical T-shirt to run in, instead of something more substantial), I came up with a few good reasons why I, Courtenay Brown, endorphin-addicted, sweat-induced sanity seeker, three-time marathoner (with a fourth on the horizon) self-proclaimed runner for life, hate running.

I hate running because I’m vain. I hate that on Mondays at noon, my carefully coifed, freshly shampooed, shiny, silky hair is going to “sweat out” no matter how carefully I ponytail it. After I shower, my perfume will be washed away (I’m simply not lugging all that stuff in with me every morning), and my makeup will not be as flawless as it was before I ran (even though I wash my face before and after I run, and reapply some basic makeup).

I hate running because I have to be disciplined. I used to live to sleep late on Saturdays, but these days, I’m out the door before the sun comes up, which means I have to go to bed early and eschew my favorite pomegranate martini and other fun nocturnal activities (but only the night before a big race or a long run!).

I hate running races because they stress me out. I generally train well, and no matter what the distance: 5K, 10K, 10-mile, half-marathon, or marathon, I toss and turn all night, and come race morning I will be totally and completely freaked the freak out. I spend hours in the bathroom at home (aw come on, you’re a runner, and you’ve been there, done that), completely losing all the good stuff I’ve put in my body to fuel it for the race. Without fail, my husband always asks, “Are you sure you enjoy racing?”

I hate running because I don’t like to think of myself as competitive. In addition to being a runner, I am a yogini. I’ve been practicing yoga for approximately three years. I’m all about being non-judgmental of my efforts and others efforts. Being competitive just feels wrong to me.

Then on my way back to the office, at about 2.25 miles into my run, with my pace well established, my breathing easy, and the gentle incline of 15th Street ahead of me, I realized that I actually LOVE running and the reasons why are as follows:

I love running because I’m vain. At 41 years old, I look damn good. I totally credit running with the fact that I am fitter than most people my age. I started running to lose the “baby fat” almost 12 years ago. Today, I weigh less than I did before the birth of my first child, and I am as energetic as ever.

I love running because I have to be disciplined. Running forces me to take good care of myself. I get the rest I need, I eat healthy foods, and I love that after rising early and putting in anywhere from 10-20 miles, I have the rest of the day to feel good about my efforts. Not to mention, seeing the sun rise on the National Mall, with no tourists in sight, is simply amazing!

I love running races because they stress me out. Once I finally calm down and the race starts, I am able to channel my nervous energy into speed and focus. I’ve learned to do the same thing in life when I’m facing a stressful situation. I know how to channel my stress and do what needs to be done.

I love running because it allows me to be competitive. I’m covering the ears of my inner yogini—I am competitive. I generally compete with myself; I’m always focused on beating Courtenay’s last PR. But truth be told, I love to see how I stacked up against other runners. I love to see how many people I “beat” who are younger than me (in some case decades younger!).
By the time I finished my run, I realized that I LOVE running because more times than not, after a good run I realize that I’ve gained far more than I had to put in.

Run well.

ChiRunning: Is It All It's Cracked up to Be?

Let me set the scene for you: I’ve been a runner for almost 12 years. I never had a running injury until I started training for my first marathon in 2007. About halfway into my 16-week training program, I ended up sidelined and had to get a medical deferral due to IT Band Syndrome in my right leg. Since then, I’ve completed three marathons (and countless shorter distance races) and I’ve suffered a number of running injuries: patellar tendonitis and piriformis syndrome among them. As a result, I’ve tried every treatment under the sun from physical therapy to acupuncture to active release massage therapy—you name it, I tried it. Not running was never an option for me.

During a random session on Amazon, I stumbled across a book titled, ChiRunning: A Revolutionary Approach to Effortless, Injury-Free Running, and I was so intrigued that I immediately downloaded it to my Kindle. The author, Danny Dreyer, suggests that the road to running effortlessly starts with returning to our childhood. He encourages runners to return to the time when running felt like fun, which really resonated with me, because a good run always feels like recess to me! In the book, Danny provides detailed instruction on how to modify your running style to ensure pain-free running for life.

Although I had a pretty clear understanding of what Danny was suggesting (I’ve only read half of the book so far), I wanted to see it in action. I found a ChiRunning Half-Day Workshop in DC. The price was steep, $125 for 4-hours of group instruction (but I thought it was more feasible than $225 for a full-day session). I took the class on August 22. It was led by Lloyd Henry, who is a significantly accomplished athlete based in the DC area. There were a total of 12 people in my class: a few moms, a few men, and at least one trust-fund baby. Lloyd instructed us on how to correct our posture, lean into the run (let gravity do all of the work), and literally let our feet “peel off the ground” as we fell forward into the run. It was a lot of information squeezed into a 4-hour class, but in the end, I felt it was worth it.

I’ve been able to employ some of the things I’ve learned in my recent runs, and it has helped. But, it’s a lot to think about, which is OK for me, as I tend to be an associative runner. I check in with my body often during a long run, and ChiRunning has taught me to pay that much more attention. Am I a believer? Not sure, but I’ll keep you posted.

Run well,
Courtenay

It’s OK to Eat the Cheese Steak: Or the Top Five Lessons Running Has Taught Me About Life

Lesson 1: Take nothing for granted. I’ve been a runner for 11 years. Although, I never considered myself a runner until I began to run races (folly, I know that now). There have been occasions when I’d come home (or back to the office) after a run, and begin to rip the run apart because it wasn’t long enough, fast enough, etc….That is until I sustained a running injury, (patellar tendonitis plus piriformis syndrome) that caused me to have to step out of my sneakers for roughly three months. It was three months of agony for me (and my loved ones, I was no treat to live with). But during that time, I learned the art of appreciation. When my doctor OK’d me to run two miles at a stretch as I regained my strength, I was ecstatic. Being sidelined made me realize that every day I can lace up my shoes, and get out and run, is a gift. I know longer disparage my run or the effort I put into getting it done.

Lesson 2: Don’t contemplate your bruises. I was training with the DC Road Runners for the SunTrust National Marathon in 2009. We were out on a 14-mile run in 30 degree weather. At about seven miles in, we approached the top of a hill. I was fatigued and my form was sloppy. On the descent, I lost my footing and went crashing down into the gravel. My right knee screamed in agony. As I pushed myself up from the ground, I decided that I had no other choice but to pull myself together and finish the run. So I didn’t even look down at my knee, because I knew I would not be able to complete the run if I actually saw my knee. I felt the sting of pain, but I could still bend it. When we arrived back at the Georgetown Running Company, I looked down at my ripped running tights and I saw my bruised and bloodied knee. I celebrated my ability to overcome my bruises with a new pair of running tights and a renewed sense of my own personal strength.

Lesson 3: Celebrate your body. I started running to lose the baby fat I’d gained with the birth of my first daughter 11 years ago. I’d gained 26 lbs while I was pregnant, expanding from 144 lbs to 170 lbs. I’ve never had the lean, lithe body of a runner. I’m built more like Serena Williams, much to my husband’s delight, with strong powerful quads and an impressive glute to boot. Yet, I used to yearn for what I considered the true “runner’s body.” Eleven years later, I love my strong, able body that has allowed me to complete countless races, including three marathons, since 2007.

Lesson 4: You never know who is watching. Today I broke down and ate a cheese steak hoagie for lunch. While I was standing in the café, mentally berating myself for my lapse in food judgment, I saw a woman who I used to regularly see at the gym where I’d change clothes before heading out for a run. She looked fabulous. I remembered when she first started working out—her hard work was evident. I told her about my guilty lunch selection. She told me, “It’s OK to eat the cheese steak. You’ll run it right off.” She further stated that she missed seeing me at the gym (I change at a new gym these days) and that I had been the inspiration for her to start running.

Lesson 5: You can do more than you ever thought you could. Three years ago, if someone would’ve told me that I’d be a marathoner, I would’ve thought they were nuts. I had just finished my first 5K, and while I thought perhaps I should try a 10K, a marathon was another matter altogether. Yet in 2008, I found myself at the start line of the Marine Corps Marathon. Crossing the finish line 26.2 miles later was one of the greatest moments in my life. Although I was spent and every part of my body ached, I already knew I wanted to do it again. From that moment on, I have never doubted my ability to achieve ANY goal in life.

Every Run is a Good Run

Have you ever finished a run, and then beat yourself up because you were too slow or you didn’t run far enough? (Yes, I make myself run .2 miles if my Garmin indicates I’ve only run 3.98 miles, but I’m working on it.) I used to be a fanatic about the quality of my runs; that is, until I was sidelined with a runners-knee, diminished gluteal strength injury for roughly five months.

While I sought help from every practitioner under the sun (acupuncturists, massage therapists, physical therapists, you name it) my weekly mileage was severely curtailed. I missed the ING Georgia Marathon and the Long Island Marathon while I was in recovery, and I pretty much drove my family (and no doubt my colleagues) crazy with my crankiness.

Five months and many spin classes later (I was in constant search of a runner’s high) I’m glad to report that I’ve made a full recovery (due to a long overdue visit to an orthopedic doctor) and I’m now running strong again.

Still I have to remind myself to gently ease back into running, and I’ve been able to do that (for the most part). Take it from me, there’s nothing like an injury to give you a little perspective on running. I’m now so grateful to be running again, that I never diminish my efforts – no matter what!

I pray you run well today.