What is running?

I have run many, many miles over the years.  Some years are filled with more miles than others.  But, even off years remind me why I love running.

Running, the word, may conjure up images of the fleet-of-foot floating across the pavement shoes merely nicking the ground.  Those thin, waif-like creatures who make the motion seem effortless.  For some, running is about a certain minute-per-mile time.  Anything slower than their arbitrary cutoff is “jogging.”

I never fit any of these images.  If I starred in the tortoise and the hare, I would be the tortoise.  I am not waif-like, nor do I float.  These days my minute-per-mile time is slower than the walking pace of some.  Even when I don’t fit the image or time of a “runner” that is just what I call myself.  Not a “jogger,” but a runner.  It is a mindset.  A view of self that is not captured by the word jogger.  In my mind, I am the waif skimming the pavement.

Now, I am 23 weeks pregnant.  Running, fast or slow, isn’t happening.  I did about a half mile yesterday, but realized that keeping my heart rate low wasn’t happening even with my slow pace.  When I found out I was pregnant with my second child I had images of cruising through the end of pregnancy.  Lots of women have done it.  But the fatigue of pregnancy overcame my best efforts.  So I am a walker, for now.  I will put miles on pushing my son waiting for the day I can run again.

(A shout out to a friend who began a running apparel company for the big runner.  For all the Clydesdales out there, get your gear here, from the Clydesdale Running Company.)


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