Long may you run

I realized today that I have been a runner for half of my life. Running defines my life, it defines me; it is a habit; it is an addiction; it is necessity. I became a runner almost by accident: in 8th grade gym class, we endured the requisite cross country running unit and I was usually the first female in the class to cross the finish line at the end of each run. I didn't pay too much attention to this; I'm sure I was probably more concerned with boys and gossip and other such teenage things. But at parent-teacher interviews, my gym teacher mentioned to my mom that I was a good runner and should consider joining a track club. I remember not long after that, I joined the Kamloops Track and Field Club. I think this had more to do with my parents pushing me to join than with me joining of my own accord.

In my first year with KTFC, I raced the sprints like the 100m and 200m, and tried javelin and long jump. In the following years, I focused on the 800m and 1500m. I loved the training, and learning about nutrition, training and fitness. But oh, how I hated the butterflies that savaged my stomach hours before the start of any race. Looking back now, I don't think I knew how to channel that nervous energy - fourteen years later, I could now provide some advice my younger self.

I continued training at UBC for one or two years with one of my KTFC friends, but I also started to do long runs for my own pleasure or as stress-relief, with less focus on training for competition. And now running is simply my lifestyle. It is like flossing my teeth - I love it and hate it ('cause let's face it, there's some days when I really don't want to run, just like sometimes I really hate flossing but it feels so good after you've done it.)

I have gone through quite possibly hundreds of pairs of running shoes; I still have my old track spikes buried in a box somewhere in my parents house in Kamloops. I still have my KTFC and UBC track suits. I have a ratty, yellowed collection of shirts from various track meets and, more recently, 10km races. These are my keepsakes, my mile-markers.

And I can't wait to add my first half marathon shirt and medal to the collection. I'm out to prove to myself that I can do it, to challenge myself and test my limits. I worry about my knees and other joints because as I get older, the ol' knees are becoming more sensitive!

It was while I was ruefully examining my worse-for-wear feet, vaguely thinking that sandal season is a cruel time, that I realized I've been running for half my life. I looked at my hardened, calloused toes and saw evidence of fourteen years worth of pounding the pavement. I only hope that they will carry me through another fourteen years of healthy running and racing. And I hope that I feel strong, healthy and prepared come race day!