I had a revelation today. An epiphany if you will. It hit me all of a sudden as I was doing my hill workout this morning before work. Hill workouts, by the way, are great for you blah blah blah but I hate them. It’s literally the worst part about running, but you have to do it over and over and over again. For my workout today, I had to do four sets of running for six minutes, walking for three. I would run up a hill to the top, back down it, and then down a hill to the bottom, and that was my route. Four times. I absolutely hated it.
But something occurred to me as I was running up and down (and up and down and up and down and up and down) my little hill near Memorial Park – I’m a runner. I don’t know when it happened. I don’t know how it happened, but I’m a runner. I complain about running-type things. I spend my time planning routes, planning weekend trips around when and where I am going to do my long run. I read books about running. I listen to podcasts about running. I eat a specific way to help improve my running.
Maybe this isn’t a big deal to you, but it is to me. I was never athletic growing up. Never played any sports, never really did anything even remotely athletic. But to consider myself a runner now is huge. And the biggest thing is – it isn’t a difficult thing to do. Running is easy. We were born to run. It’s a natural instinct – run towards something or run from danger. All you have to do is take the first step.
And make a rockin’ playlist.