"It's All Matt's Fault"

I just got back from a 5-mile run. The farthest I've gone since the Disney Half Marathon back in September and double what I ran last week. For months now, I've been trying to get my running groove back on, so to speak. A neuroma (a cyst on a nerve in the foot) sidelined me a bit so I've been babying it to avoid a flare-up. I think, though, I've found the correct shoe but wouldn't you know, it's been discontinued grrrr....



My having become a runner is all my nephew Matthew's fault. Matthew ran the Chicago Marathon in October of 2004. I was there to cheer him on and totally got caught up in the energy of the event so beginning the week between Christmas and New Year, I started walking and then slowly but surely I incorporated running; by the time October 9, 2005 came around, my farthest run was 17 miles. Figured if I could run 17, I could run/walk 26.2. It took me five hours, forty-one minutes and thirty-three seconds, but I finished!

Running. Running really holds a special place in my heart. It's with the Chicago Marathon, I became an athlete. And even then, it took time for me to believe I could actually call myself one but friends convinced me a marathon finish seals the deal.

For the most part, I've tried to stay away from sports. Specifically, group sports; I'm just no good at them. I don't get the whole competition thing. What I do get, however, is having fun, and a lot of fun goes out the window when really competitive people are involved. There's something about a person who goes all balistic and out of control, because a ball was dropped or a pass was made incorrectly. Seems to me, there are far more important things in life to get upset about. I don't know, like, world hunger, curing cancer and Belgian chocolates for all!

Yes, you guessed it, I was always one of, if not the last, to be picked for whatever team; whatever game was being played. Honestly, I would have preferred to have not been picked at all willing to sit on the sidelines all the while avoiding the painful, self-esteem destroying process. Here's the scoop. That whole thing about sports building self-esteem and integrity is all just a bunch of B.S.

I fail to see how being good at baseball somehow makes you a better human being than someone who's never swung a bat. Mhm...wonder what sports Mother Teresa and Gandhi played?

Ultimately, lil' ol' me does best as a bicylcist, swimmer and runner. Notice anything? Yep, they're all individual-oriented and other than cycling, don't require a whole lotta gear. Running, especially, can be done anywhere. I've run the coast of Peru, the coast of Spain, through the streets of Munich and Honolulu as well as back, country roads in Illinois. Running clears my head, and levels my psychological and emotinal playing field. Running helps me deal with anger and everyday frustrations and sometimes everyday frustrations and anger motivate me to run. When I'm done with a run, I'm always a little bit different from the person I was when I first put one foot in front of the other and headed-out on my way, and it's always positive. Call it the endorphins, but I'm always a little "high" at the end of a run.

I think about life...my life, and the life of the world around me. If I'm running along the beach, I'm able to admire the water, and its vastness and seeming endlessness assessing my own immortality. I see other runners or cyclists and people walking growing more confident and less alone in the world and in a good way, I feel less important running in the shadow of what nature has provided.

Finishing my first marathon just shy of my 47th birthday, changed me. Well, maybe not changed me, because I really don't think we change all that much during the course of our lives beleiving what really goes on is we come to a better understanding or greater awareness of who we are. And it takes exposing ourselves to different experiences to create new opportunities for growth.

Had someone told me I'd be running a marathon at some point in my life, much less at age 46, I would've said they were crazy. And then in if one marathon wasn't enough, in some insane effort to prove my first marathon wasn't a fluke or freak of nature, I ran three more! Currently, though, I have a new rule. From now on, I will only run marathons outside the country; this way, I combine my love for travel with my love for taking care of both my physical and mental self. Look for me in Athens, Greece November of 2010 for the running of the 25ooth anniversaryof the first marathon!