Passion For Running Part 7: What Do You Like About It?

By now, you are hopefully on your way to making running a part of your exercise routine. You have a handle on the why, the how, and the elements of nutrition, hydration, and equipment.

Your friends and significant others are seeing a change in you. What you once complained about and procrastinated over is now something you seek out, at least some of the time. Or maybe you have broken through a barrier that before you just couldn't get beyond.

This is the goal and you are making wonderful progress. You may be feeling the change as well. You can now run stronger and longer. You may not labor through it quite as much as you used to. Dare I say that maybe you look forward to it once in awhile.

Now that you don't hate running quite as much, it is time to give serious thought to what you like about it. Look past the negatives or the difficulties (unless the challenge is what you like!). Push them to the side. Nobody ever perfected anything while focusing on the negatives.

What do you like about running? As with everything else, every reader of this post will have a different answer. Some may have multiple answers.

Here are some things I like about running, just in case you need help to get started:

• the healthy heart link
• the freedom
• the challenge
• the contribution to weight management and body shaping
• the races
• the challenge of a new race PR (sorry, can you tell I like the challenge?)
• the people I meet at the races
• the new race travel destinations
• the cool running gadgets and paraphenalia

So, now it's your turn.

What do YOU like about it?

Whatever it is, maintaining your focus on the things you like about it will naturally push to the side anything that you don't quite like about it, making it easier and easier to achieve and maintain your passion for running.

Christmas Woes

I will be honest with you.

This was not the best Christmas I have ever experienced. In fact, it was probably the worst in many ways.

OK, can we settle on bittersweet? I don't want to complain; there were good and bad parts, as with anything in life.

Things I am thankful for:

• It remains the birthday of Our Savior, Jesus Christ. His birth should be enough to rejoice despite my earthly, human disappointments: His birth, His star, the eternal promise, light and warmth of His love.
• The knowledge that all of my greatest friends were surrounded with their family and enjoying the togetherness that naturally emanates from this season. In my head, I lived vicariously through them.
• I still had my children by my side, with their sweet smiles and embraces of complete love of the purest nature. There are many I know who did not, could not, have their children with them.
• My youngest son did all the decorating this year, solo. He happily and willingly dragged the boxes out, organized, and creatively brightened up the house, inside and out, when I couldn't make myself do it. He asked for nothing more than affirmation at the end that he had done a good job. I couldn't sing enough praise for him no matter how hard I try. Thanks, JJ.
• My daughter thoughtfully gave gifts to everyone in the family AND played Santa at the Christmas tree, when I didn't feel moved to do it. I can't tell her enough how much I appreciate her infectious smile and spirit. Thanks, KK.
• My oldest son didn't dissect my faith. He tried, but backed off of his own volition, therefore preserving the spirit of it. Thanks, B-man.
• I didn't have to suffer in-laws, as much as I love them. Enough said.
• Cooking and clean up was no more extensive than a regular everyday meal. OK, a little more, along the lines of when I cook gourmet. But, much less stress and not too many leftovers. The stuffing only lasted 18 hours.

For each one of these blessings, I give thanks.

Nonetheless, the greater feeling of joy eluded me this year. The fear, the uncertainties, the hovering discord, the longing for happier times...these all haunted my spirit.

Do not despair for me, though, for my faith is strong.

"Faith is confident assurance concerning what we hope for and conviction about things we do not see." Hebrews 11:1

And, there is still Job's example in these troubled times:

"The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord. In all this, Job did not sin, nor did he say anything disrespectful of God." Job 2:21-22

I still have an example to which to aspire.

Practice Makes Perfect

Consistently throughout my teaching career, my message to my students has always been to study, study, and study some more. Every night, memorize a few more words, work a few more problems, take another practice exam. It will alleviate the panic.

One would think that I, as the student and incumbent to taking the GRE exam, would follow my own sage advice. After all, it comes from a program in which I have complete faith. I know it works; I have seen it work in the students' increased understanding of concepts about which only a few weeks earlier they were unclear, in the students' improved scores between practice tests one and two.


Practice ALWAYS makes perfect.


So why couldn't I follow my own advice? My own teachings?

Probably for the same excuse my students always give me: I don't have time.

Oh, but you do, which is what I always tell my students when they give me that excuse. All it takes is the desire to get it done and then work it into your schedule. Make it happen.

I had the desire to get it done but every time I sat down to do it, I came up with a handy excuse why I couldn't. Or some other more interesting activity presented itself at the same time as I had my study guide open: my computer beckoned me to check my email, update my status on Facebook, or write a new blog post.

I rationalized. I came up with some good ones, too.

1. "You don't need to learn new vocabulary words. With as much as you read, and all of the times you have taught that SAT class, you probably know any word that could come up on the GRE." WRONG! Words like abstruse and sedulous appeared instead of words like banal and prescient.

2. "Practice tests are a waste of time. I only need to know the strategies and method; this will keep me from spending too much time on the questions." WRONG! The computer-based test does not allow you to move to the next question until you answer the one you are on. So, unlike the paper test, you are not allowed to leave any answers blank. Consequently, I did alot of guessing even after taking too long to try to come up with the right answer.

3. "Math is boring; why would an English Literature student need to know math anyhow?" WRONG! Well, no matter how you look at it, math IS boring. And, I will not be required to take any math classes in my master's program. Already checked that out. However, I felt so stupid and inefficient as I guessed my way through the quantitative sections of the test. I berated myself over not being sure of answers to even the simplest percentage and word problems. The result was a personal sense of failure. I know I could have done better.

In the end, I achieved an average score: slightly above average in verbal, slightly below average in math. Not suprising but disappointing all the same. Especially knowing that I knew about this test well in advance and had all the materials, and time, I needed to properly prepare and perhaps increase my scores significantly from where they ended up.

One positive note: I do feel I excelled in the two writing sections. My SAT teaching helped me to apply myself in a strong way. However, those scores are about 2 weeks away.

The result of this learning experience is that I need to take the GRE one more time. I think I could still get into the program I want with the score I received, but for my own self-esteem, I want to do it the right way and hope to drastically improve my score.

The good thing about this painful lesson is that next time I teach my SAT course, I will know from experience the excuses my students give me....and I will be able to respond from a perspective of understanding.

Passion For Running Part 6: Toss It Up

One of the strongest barriers you face in maintaining your passion for running is boredom. I consider it one of the strongest because it cannot be resolved by taking in more fluids, like hydration; it cannot be assuaged by eating the proper foods, like nutrition; and it cannot be ameliorated by buying better shoes, like equipment.

In other words, boredom has little tangibility: it's literally all in your head.

What does this mean? It means a runner cannot survive on running alone. To maintain your passion, you need to toss it up.

William Cowper (1731-1800), an English poet, wrote: "Variety is the very spice of life that gives it all its flavor."

In terms of real life, this couldn't be more true:

What is food without spices, seasoning?
What is a vacation without sightseeing?
What is a road trip through a desert where sand is all you see for miles?
What are brain cells and muscle tissue when denied varied stimulation?

Get the point? The answer to all is boring, uninteresting, dull, pedestrian. And, in some cases, it can result in atrophy and reduced functionality.

Imagine what havoc this type of atrophy can wreak on the determination of any seasoned runner, much less that of a novice. It doesn't support learning to have passion.

Therefore, add variety to your running, toss things up. You need to cross-train.

Instead of running every day, slowly increasing your miles or varying between long runs and intervals, throw in a day of cycling, or swimming. Add strength and weight training to your routine. If you need more challenge, combine these activities by having a day where you run and then weight train, or swim and then run.

I create a weekly schedule. In this way I know what I will do every day and where I will fit it in.

Other benefits exist.

• target different muscle groups. Swimming works the upper body; cycling works the lower body.
• increase endurance and efficiency
• reduce overuse injuries and prevent injury.

Whether to avoid boredom or to enhance endurance, cross-training is an excellent way to achieve balance in your routine, avoid injury, and move faster toward finding the passion of the better, stronger runner inside you.

For more about the benefits of cross-training, check out Eight Benefits of Cross-Training at RunnersWorld.com.

Re-evaluating in Memphis

While I was in Memphis, I did some things that many tourists do.

I saw the famous ducks of the Peabody Hotel and basked in the ambience of the hotel's ornately festive lobby while I enjoyed a cocktail.

I met a young family from Birmingham; they drove in the day before, as had I, so the husband could run in the half-marathon. His school-age son was a football fanatic and was proud to say he had also run in his first race this year; but then declared that he doesn't like running and doesn't want to run another race. This seemed to be news to his father. I helped the son use my phone to look up scores for the Auburn vs. N.C. game. He was backing N.C., which was getting trounced in the first quarter. He didn't seem perplexed by that.

I absorbed the sights, sounds, and, smells of Beale Street, both during the day and at night and contemplated all the cities in which I have experienced the same sort of funky, Bohemian allure. I tried to compare and contrast its elements with those of New York's Greenwich Village, London's SoHo, and Austin's 6th Street. Every city seems to have one and each one of them--whether created by the developers to lure in hapless tourists and their screaming wallets or established through time and critical in the city's history--is enduringly unique.

I wandered Union Street looking for Rendezvous Grill, which is purported to have the best ribs in Memphis. I didn't find it. It is in an alley within blocks of the Peabody Hotel. My single status in a strange city at night deterred me. I did try to ask directions from several "locals", just like the man from the hotel had suggested to me if I got lost.

"Everyone in Memphis can tell you how to get to Rendezvous."

I must have found the only three people who didn't. They were probably tourists, just like me. I didn't think to use the GPS system on my phone but instead wished for a man to walk with, on whose arm I could hang and not be quite so fearful. My wish was not granted.

I marveled at the expanse of the Mississippi River as I rolled over it the next day on my way home. The rising sun was shimmering a goodbye in my rearview mirror and the childhood spelling rhyme was chiming in my ears: M-I-S-S-I-S-S-I-P-P-I.

I did something that many tourists don't do.

I ran the St. Jude Memphis Half-Marathon. Actually, that was my reason for coming. The sightseeing was just an afterthought and the filling between the slices of two 8 hour drives. My mother thinks I'm absolutely insane; but she should know me by now.

I didn't do some things that many tourist probably come to Memphis to do, mainly visit Graceland. Another tourist mecca, and one that I would most likely avoid on my next trip to Memphis, IF I had the time to visit it this time. But, I didn't.

So, next time Graceland.

I also did some self re-evaluation. It came on without warning as a gradual realization, like the dawn's first light, growing bolder and brighter in the morning sky.

I felt lonely.

For the first time among many solo trips just like this one.

I couldn't shake it and I couldn't find anything good or positive in it to write about. I was just lonely.

Maybe it is my age. Or, it could be a symptom of the chapter of my life in which I am at this point. Nope. Too easy.

It could be a need to celebrate the successes of the race with someone close, instead of having to text or email them like I usually do.

Or, could it be that being alone is losing its attraction. Is the mystique evaporating or is it just transforming, teasing me to find it again?

As I traveled west on I-40, battling the truckers and race fatigue, I didn't feel quite as lonely as the night before. It was back to the usual contentment with being alone, my own music, my own speed, and my own stops.

I do hope that loneliness stays hidden from view or comes fully out of the closet. I never did like hide and seek and at my age, I'm not changing my ways now.

Solo On The Slopes

Before my Thanksgiving trip with my kids to Breckenridge in Colorado, I would have never thought it possible to be solo, or feel solitude, at a major ski resort. My past experiences have taught me exactly the opposite. Endless streams of people in the parking lots, at the lifts, on the trails, and in the restaurants and restrooms. It is hard to escape them.

Crowds just go with the territory when skiing. You learn to be patient because much of your time is spent just waiting.

Remember "The Waiting Place" in Dr. Seuss' book, "Oh The Places You'll Go"?

One of my favorite childhood stories. One that continues to inspire me on a daily basis.

Despite my past skiing experiences, both here in the U.S. and in Europe, I was able to find solitude at Breckenridge.

And, I daresay, a welcome hint of peace.

The solitude happened in inconspicuous places and at random moments, which might have been overlooked had I not been paying attention. Maybe without knowing I was seeking solitude.

On the first day of skiing, Thanksgiving Day, it happened on the trails. The trails were clear of the throngs of people. The reasons for this were clear as well: sub zero temperature and a holiday. Many people, including the avid skiers, avoided the elements and instead opted for their warm homes, surrounded by family and friends and an endless, edible landscape. Why venture out?

I was glad they didn't, because I benefitted from wide open trails and few obstacles except my own wobbly, rusty ski legs and the potential frostbite that threatened to consume one of my fingers. Other than that, I could ski as slowly as I wanted, traverse across the entire trail, and not worry about being blindsided or run over. I heard the wind rushing past me.

Interesting how one's senses adjust when external stimuli are reduced.

The second day was much different. Normally, I would have ridden up the lift with my friend or my daughter. However, my friend had another commitment and my daughter decided not to join in because of a fall she had the day before.

Alone again...with my son and my friend's son. Both of them snowboarders. Believe me, not only is there a division between teenagers and parents, but between snowboarders and skiers. Three is an awkward number in most cases; even more so when one of them is a mom AND a skier.

So, I was solo.

Here is where I discovered that solitude exists despite the lines of people waiting to get on the lift. And, in the ten minute ride to the top of the mountain, I not only reveled in that solitude...but found peace as well.

Peace in the whisper of the wind (as bone numbing as it was) through the pine trees.


Peace in nature's scenery embodied by the waving pine trees, the sparkling snow, the majestic mountains, and the cloud-masked azure skies.


Peace in the silence of the ride far above the activity of the slope below.


Peace in the undulating movement of the skiers pirouetting down the mountain, almost like watching raindrops meander down a dirty windowpane, only much faster.


Peace in the solo run down the slope without the delay of falling snowboarders trying to right themselves.

Regardless of the chaos that can overwhelm us, peace is found in solitude and solitude can be found everywhere. All you have to do is open your eyes, unplug your ears, take the walls down from around your heart, and experience the world around you.

Perhaps Dr. Seuss had it right all along.

"All alone, whether you like it or not, alone will be something you'll be quite alot...and when you're alone there's a very good chance you'll meet things that scare you right out of your pants...but on you will go though the weather be foul...kid, you'll move mountains...today is your day! Your mountain is waiting so get on your way."