Running and me

I was never really into sports at school, I did it when required but did my best to avoid it whenever I could. Strangely enough, the reason I avoided it is because I am so competitive. I liked to be the best at things and I realised early on that when it came to sporting activities, unlike with most other things, I was just average and I was never going to be the best. So I figured, why bother. And when you're smart, great at everything else and the teachers love you, you can get away with blue murder just generally. I learnt early on to use that to my advantage. When I hit university, I had a bit of a change of heart, so I tried karate (I did not last beyond the first two lessons because I hated the teacher) but settled on yoga for a brief while. The first time I stepped foot into a gym was when I was 23, I went to a spinning class with one of my best friends and I was hooked. Today, I probably see the inside of a Virgin Active gym more often than some people change their underwear.

And then I discovered running. It started with a bit of treadmill work and because of the naturally competitive streak, the desire to become faster and better grew. I loved that feeling when I pushed myself hard and achieved a goal - running for longer, running faster, running like there was no tomorrow, a complete state of euphoria, a place where mentally thoughts just flowed in and out and solutions were found without great effort or worry, a complete escape from everything that just was not 'right' at that moment in time. I entered my first half marathon in 2008. Partly because it became something I just needed and wanted to do, partly because it gave me a specific goal to train towards and partly because training and running it, would allow me on some level to hold on to someone who mattered a great deal to me and who had left the country. He loved running and always ran races. In his leaving, I had lost one of my best friends, one of my favourite people in this world and probably the first boy I truly fell for with complete abandon. I think my subconscious mind believed that I could maintain a universal connection with him through running. I liked the idea of it. Pounding the pavements also provided me with a means of physically dealing with the intangible emotional loss that I was experiencing, that could just not be fixed with a plaster. I convinced myself that the more I ran, that the faster I ran, that the harder I pushed, the faster I would heal, the quicker I would forget.

I ran my first half in just over 2 hours in the heart of a very cold winter, a morning on which I could barely feel my limbs. My feet and my legs only woke up and joined my spirit and enthusiasm after 10km. My running shoes I was to find, (albeit only two races later) were not suited to a mild pronator such as myself. The feeling of elation in crossing my first half marathon finish line, blisters and all, was utterly incredible. What a sense of a achievement and completion. The irony was the one person that I wanted to tell about my achievement, was the one person I could not talk to and could not reach. But alas, I'd finally found the sporting activity that eluded me as a child.

I love running. I love the way it's just me out there on the road, with just my thoughts and my own goals. I love that runner's high you achieve once you've worked past that feeling of an exploding chest in the morning air and your quads finally warm up. I love how quickly each step propels you through kilometre after kilometre without realising how much distance you have covered. I love that feeling of elation when you beat your personal best on a particular route or distance. I love passing fellow runners and greeting them, in that shared acknowledgement of the fact that we are both indulging in that secret natural high that a non-runner would just not understand. And, I love the look and feel of the muscles in my legs.

I ran my first Two Oceans this year, managing a sub-2 hours and shaving 13 minutes off my last half marathon time. My strength and speed continues to increase and I'm incredibly excited about the possibility of further improving my running ability. The competitive me has finally found a sport that suits me, even if I am just competing against myself.