Torture. Because I Like It.

The wind was hitting like a sledgehammer, relentlessly pounding me as I ran headlong against it. With each step I wondered if I was actually moving forward or if the wind slamming me backwards was overcoming all my forward progress, but I kept on. Finally, I anticipated some relief as I turned on to an even smaller side road out in the country. Rather than relief, the wind was now beating at me from the side, causing me to lean into it as I ran. At least it was a warm day.


Long distance running out alone in the country surrounded by farm houses and winter emptied fields yesterday was just one day of many of my training for the Fall Creek Falls 50K Trail Race. It has been a long, hard winter of training. Living in Kentucky I am fortunate to have many warm days in the winter, and even the cold days don't compare to the ones people are facing farther north. Still, the hundreds of miles of training behind me so far leading up to this race and the hundreds still to go have required the tenacity of a pit bull.


There have been many days that I did not want to get up and go for a run that day. There have been times that I adjusted my weekly mileage down for a break, or skipped a day for some extra rest. There have been days that were supposed to be a hard workout day, that I opted for an easy workout day instead. Even with those, I still keep pushing forward, training in the face of those sledgehammer winds.


Training for this race, for me, is partially for my health. Any fitness expert would say, that the number of miles I am doing per week is beyond that needed for health. So there must be other reasons. One is that I just want to see what I am capable of, I want to test my limits, I want to go further, run faster, train harder, and all that. Another is that I am having fun doing it. Even on the days that it is cold, and windy, days on which the wind rips at my clothes and attempts to slice through the armor of my down jacket, I am having fun doing it.


There is no heroic backstory of being overweight and running from the demons of ridicule. There is no running to overcome addiction. There is no running to prove something to my father, and only a little bit of running as a reprieve from the grief of losing my mother.


So my story is not as dramatic as some others.


I just like to run.


I set goals. I set hard, lofty, distant goals, and head towards them one running stride at a time. On cold days and hot days. Lathered in sunscreen sometimes, or wearing a headlamp to see by others. Sometimes I run in the morning while my wife is still asleep, or I run while she is at work, or I get my run done as early as I can so she can get her run in too.


Training for this race is by far the hardest thing I've ever done. Running 50, 54, then 60 miles in a week is time consuming, mind consuming, and energy consuming, but I keep pushing forward to meet my goals.


At times it feels selfish, so I hope that what I am doing inspires my daughter to believe, to know that she can accomplish big things if she tackles them one step at a time. I hope that my fitness clients can see by my example that if they make a plan and stick to it they can lose 50, 60, 100 pounds, or run their first 5K or marathon.


At the heart of it though, my motivation is not that noble, I just like to run.