Real Runners

I still, and probably always will, have difficulty calling myself a runner. I know I put in the work to be a runner and have run many miles in my lifetime, but to do this day anytime I pass someone on the trail that looks like a runner to me, I immediately feel like I am a poser and this real runner will look at me and know it.

I can't see what I look like when I run because I obviously don't run in front of a mirror. Sometimes I will run past a storefront and crane my neck to try to get a look at myself but I don't want to look like a vain egomaniac or risk running into something because I was looking at myself. I am not even sure I really want to know what I look like when I run. Although there is a chance that it would put my fears of not looking like a runner to rest, there is a much bigger chance that my fears will be verified - I look like a dork. Ignorance is bliss and I am ok with that.

The thing about running is anyone can do it so no one teaches you how to run. People act as if you are born with an inane sense of how to run properly but if you have ever seen someone running with an awkward or unusual gait you know that can't possibly be true. Baring any physical disability anyone can get from Point A to Point B in some sort of running state, but looking like a graceful gazel, not so easy. What I do know about me is that some days I do feel a little gazel like - or maybe a slightly less graceful creature like a mule. But other days I feel like I am clumbsily laboring along like Frakenstein. Every step feels awkward and I can't get any sort of flow going as I jerk along. This is running though, you don't always know what your legs and your body are going to do or how they are going to feel so you just have to go with it, hence the mental strength running teaches you. It doesn't matter how many miles you have run in your lifetime either, every runner has those runs. But there is something you can do that can help.

For the past few outside runs Mike and I have gone on we have changed it up a bit and left the ipods at home. We don't talk incessently so there is a great deal of quiet where we are inthralled in our own thoughts and there has been two effects from running without music blasting in your ears. First, I feel like I can more easily find my rythm. When you have music on it can be sometimes helpful and sometimes difficult depending on the beat of the song. My music is never consistent in tempo so there is a constant shift going on while I try to keep a consistent pace. Without music my body relaxes into a pace and rythm that feels more natural because it isn't influenced by anything. My body runs the way it wants to.

The second effect has been that I have felt more like a real runner. For me real or pure runners are the runners who don't need to be distracted by music but enjoy running so much all they need is a pair of shoes and their thoughts to hit the road or trail. In the past I have not listened to music while running for safety reasons (like it was dark outside) or because my ipod was broken or my mom was being my sherpa and I didn't want to be rude and ignore her the whole way. I had never gone sans Ipod by choice though. It feels good to be a minimalist, pure runner and get out there music free. I could hear the birds singing, the rhytmic shuffling of our feet, Mike farting, me farting, it was a beautiful thing.

I have no plans on putting the ipod away entirely, but perhaps doing it more frequently will help me to accept the fact that yeah, I actually just might be a real runner. Whatever that means.