HEALTH and Wellness
Runner compares physical training to spiritual journey
By John Booth*
I hesitate to describe myself as a runner, mostly because feeling like it’s kind of an insult to, you know, real runners – the dedicated ones, the ones who live it and love it and embrace it fully.
Oh, I enjoy parts of it, like being out on an empty, narrow road in the afternoon and hearing a few hundred acres of cornfields whispering in the breeze. Or catching a sunrise over the pockets of fog tucked between a tree line and a railroad embankment.
But to ask if I enjoy running is to get me started on a wishy-washy talk about: I don’t like side stitches or fighting to maintain my breathing when all I really want to do is gasp wildly at the air like a drowning man. I don’t like wondering if my knee is going to hurt the whole time. I don’t like hills that don’t have the decency to drop away immediately after the crest.
Some days, running is like a chore that I don’t necessarily like doing, even though I know I’ll feel good about it later.
I like reaching my driveway and thinking, “Even if the rest of my day proves frustrating and fruitless, at least I ran today.” I like those moments when my mind clears and then wanders while my footsteps leave the daily grind behind me.
I got into running ultra-casually starting about six years ago, running a single two-mile race per year with my youngest brother, just for fun.
Last year, though, we decided to take on a five-miler, and then, while I built my endurance and ran with my brother during training for his first marathon, I circled Oct. 11 on my calendar and set my sights on running the Towpath Marathon in the Cuyahoga Valley.
Honestly, it surprised even me. But having watched my brother complete his run thanks to a well-established 18-week training schedule designed for novices, and having seen a former co-worker use the same plan in his own first marathon in May, I knew this could work, as long as I was willing to just put in the miles.
I printed a training chart from the web page and tucked it into my top right desk drawer, and four days a week, I looked at the number in that day’s box, ran that many miles, and marked it off with an ‘X’ when I got back.
Some days were gorgeous. Some days weren’t.
Some days felt easy. Some days were a mental and physical slog.
Some days I jumped out of bed early. Some days I wanted nothing so badly as to just skip my run and forget the whole thing.
But I didn’t. I just kept running.
And eventually, I found myself crossing the Towpath Marathon finish line without ever stopping to walk.
You see where I’m going with this?
Faith has never come easily to me, either. Go back and substitute “Christian” for “runner” in that first sentence, and yeah, that’s pretty dead-on, too.
Belief in God as a higher power has never been the struggle: Practicing the faith supported by that belief – that’s the super-tough part.
Some days, I have to learn to just put in the miles and trust that the footsteps will add up and that the plan is the right one and that eventually, I’ll wind up where I both need and want to be.
*Booth is a free-lance writer and member of Faith UMC North Canton.
