OK, confession time: I am a runner.
Not terribly scandalous, I realize, but I am just admitting this to myself. For years I said that I didn’t run because I loved to run; I ran because I love to drink wine. A drinker with a running problem, if you will.
But I think the time has come for me to finally accept that I am, and will always be, a runner.
I started running 10 years ago after my first child was born, struggling to lose the 60 lbs I’d gained during my pregnancy. Huffing & puffing along with a group of new moms, we pushed our expensive running strollers through the streets of Kitsalano whilst our babes slept in their Gortex wombs. We would stop for coffee afterwards & relieve our lactating breasts from their doubled up sports bras. I started training and competed in races, each time improving my time & feeling more comfortable in my (rather snazzy) running shoes. I ran throughout my second pregnancy & went for a run days after my son was born.
Once my babes were too big to sit in the stroller, I began to run alone. I tried running groups & running with friends, but preferred to take the time for myself to listen to music with really inappropriate lyrics, to either work through a problem or forget one for an hour. I run when I’m happy, I run when I’m sad, I run when I’m angry and I run when I’m overwhelmed. Although I often procrastinate or have to push myself to lace up my shoes, I have never regretted a run & always feel better afterward. Apart from my addiction to expensive running shoes, it’s the cheapest therapy I’ve ever had. And if you’ve never experienced a runner’s high, I can assure you that it’s the best feeling you can have with your pants on.
Lately, I’ve started running with my partner as we are training to run a half marathon in May. He reminds me that even though it’s cozier in bed on a cold Saturday morning, we will feel much better once we’re out running. And we’ll feel even better afterwards. He too is a lone wolf, but our running styles are very similar and complementary. I put in my earbuds, and we run in silence but in perfect tandem.
Running is my sport, my drug of choice and as close as I will get to having a religion. Running with my partner this morning, watching his strong, muscled legs as he ran in front of me, knowing he was with me without having to say a word, and the deep kiss we shared when we finished, I realized that running had become something else for me.
Running is foreplay.