I like the hosts of those fun runs. You know, the ones who are hired to get everybody pumped up for a grueling half-hour (or one hour if you're doing more than 5K) of torture. That's because they always the same thing, "We're gonna have fun!"
That's it. "It's fun." Yes, in a way, I won't contest that. It's fun running a marathon with some friends in tow. It's fun looking at the scenery while doing it. But the actual running? No, it's not fun. It's work, call it a labor of love if you will, but it's still work.
Most of the time, I run the last leg of a marathon silently cursing at myself why I registered again. By this time, I'm feeling tired, hungry, and even my sweat is starting to smell. I then rationalize that I was never a serious runner to begin with. I don't train but I do a pretty decent warm-up. I always go for the 5k run (But I wouldn't go beyond that. I still want to live, you know) and I average a little above 30 minutes for that distance.
And then the thought hits me. I hate running a fun run because it's terribly inconvenient. There's the shortness of breath, the heavy legs, the dawning realization that your pacing was awry and you don't have enough juice to make that final sprint. Of course, there's also the morning after: the muscle pains and the swelling, the two common symptoms of a weekend warrior who has just woken up to a bout of regret.
Yet, in all this, I find the activity extremely rewarding. That's probably because every run is a venue where I get to know my limits and, ultimately, myself. That's because I love the feeling of achievement every time I cross the finish line. That's because, as I plod on, I feel more "alive". Yeah, and the fact that I'm running to be healthy and for the benefit of a charity does feel good too.
I'm sticking with running. On second thought, it's fun.
That's it. "It's fun." Yes, in a way, I won't contest that. It's fun running a marathon with some friends in tow. It's fun looking at the scenery while doing it. But the actual running? No, it's not fun. It's work, call it a labor of love if you will, but it's still work.
Most of the time, I run the last leg of a marathon silently cursing at myself why I registered again. By this time, I'm feeling tired, hungry, and even my sweat is starting to smell. I then rationalize that I was never a serious runner to begin with. I don't train but I do a pretty decent warm-up. I always go for the 5k run (But I wouldn't go beyond that. I still want to live, you know) and I average a little above 30 minutes for that distance.
And then the thought hits me. I hate running a fun run because it's terribly inconvenient. There's the shortness of breath, the heavy legs, the dawning realization that your pacing was awry and you don't have enough juice to make that final sprint. Of course, there's also the morning after: the muscle pains and the swelling, the two common symptoms of a weekend warrior who has just woken up to a bout of regret.
Yet, in all this, I find the activity extremely rewarding. That's probably because every run is a venue where I get to know my limits and, ultimately, myself. That's because I love the feeling of achievement every time I cross the finish line. That's because, as I plod on, I feel more "alive". Yeah, and the fact that I'm running to be healthy and for the benefit of a charity does feel good too.
I'm sticking with running. On second thought, it's fun.
Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it, or what other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.
- Baz Luhrmann, Sunscreen
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