A Seed Planted

For as long as I can remember, I have hated running. Hated hated hated hated it. I played a few sports as a kid and I boxed in college, so I was forced to run from time to time. It never grew on me. I would always dread it and would seek out any substitute cardio exercise i could find. Some people were runners, and I was not one of them.

On a flight home from school in 2006, I read this article in an issue of Men's Health. While I was captivated by the story of the Tarahumara, I didn't really take anything in the article to heart. I shared the article with a few people I knew, but it never went any further than that. After all, I only ran a mile here and there before lifting weights. I certainly didn't think it was enough to warrant any kind of change. Even though nothing sunk in right then, the seed was planted.

In December of 2010, I was working full time and in graduate school. I hadn't exercised more than once or twice since the summer, and it was showing. I wasn't happy with myself. I knew that I needed a goal to work towards or my exercise regimen would fizzle like it had months and years before. During this time of regret and self loathing, I happened to be helping a high school senior with her college applications. One of her essays was about training for a triathlon with her dad. I knew that this event was just what I needed to motivate me. I was sold.

I am a pretty strong swimmer and I spent most of my childhood years on a bicycle, but tri means three. I didn't have a choice but to start running, and I was quickly reminded why I had hated it my entire life. Frustrated and in pain, I stumbled on that same Men's Health article online and re-read it. This time it spoke to me.

I did my research and bought a pair of Vibram Five Fingers in late February. Shortly after, I started doing short barefoot runs. The soles of my feet took a beating early on, but the old ankle and knee pains that I had come to expect had disappeared. It's amazing to think about, but I learned how to run for the first time in my life when I was 26 years old.

I'm still building up callouses and endurance, but my outlook has changed completely. I now run barefoot as often as possible and in the Five Fingers when it is too dark to see the ground below me on early morning runs. Two weeks ago on a Tuesday, I woke up at 5:00am and ran about three miles in the neighborhoods around my house. That's a short distance for more experienced runners, but for the first time in my life, I caught myself thoroughly enjoying a run. The moon was out, the weather was beautiful, and my legs felt great.

That's when I knew I had turned the corner. I had won the victory over myself. I loved to run.