Tall Tara

When I first started, I was a smoker, only doing it for a boy I was dating. I didn’t have any intention of continuing on with it, but something happened. The way it made me feel alive, present in the moment and meditative all at the same time…I couldn’t resist it’s lure. This year marks my ten-year anniversary of doing it. Yep, I’m a runner. (And one of those annoying ones who gushes about the “runner’s high” and loves talking to other runners about things like shoes!)

Running in my mid-twenties was a time of training hard. You could say I got a little OCD on the documentation aspect of it all. I loved keeping notes about my workouts and planning for the next event. This kind of behavior was perfect for race build-up, so I entered lots and lots of races. There was something about the high of race morning and the feeling of accomplishment afterwards. Plus, I really loved wearing the race shirts. Maybe it was because I’d never done any sports in high school but I geeked out on running hard.

My first marathon was a humbling experience. I made it halfway, to mile 13, when I heard a sound come from my knee. This happened on an uphill overpass and when I slowed to a walk at an aid station, I knew something was wrong. I tried to start running again and couldn’t do it. Walking was painful and yet the thought of dropping out of the race was almost more painful. All that training wasted.

I was talked out of not continuing on with the race and received my first DNF (Did Not Finish). The doctor diagnosed it as “runner’s knee”, or officially, chrondomalacia of the patella. After being fit for a brace and told that I couldn’t run for four months, I attended physical therapy, learned lots about my knee, and figured out I was doing everything wrong during my marathon training. Running on banked surfaces and not doing any lower-body strength training were my culprits. Talk about learning a lesson the hard way.

It’s never been about the speed for me. I know some runners who are always striving for that faster mile, convinced that hours of interval training will shave off that last thirty seconds in a race. Not me. I’m just happy to be running, feeling my body move and trying to find the right pace to put me in the zone. Depending on time of day, location of run or a number of different factors, that can mean a slow, easy saunter or a high-paced, long-striding gallop. However, it never means I’m fast. After ten years of doing it, I’m not going to get any faster. And I’m okay with that.

Now that I’m in my thirties, running has continued to evolve along with me. Where it used to be about pushing myself and ignoring the pain, it’s now more about pain management and listening to my body. I hear what my knees are telling me, I breathe into my muscles and I engage my core. It may sound silly but these are the things that keep me going mile after mile and insure that I’ll be able to continue to run for a few more decades.

Besides my running anniversary, I’ve had running on my brain since I finalized my summer race schedule and started “officially” training. I’m not as OCD about keeping track of my workouts as I used to be; now, like so much of my life, it’s online. While I don’t have any marathons planned for this season, I am looking forward to doing some new races (a triathlon in Salida) and continuing my tradition of old favorites (5th year for the Bolder Boulder baby). I can’t wait to log more miles, collect more race shirts and rock it hard in my favorite running skirt.