Running around an athletic track is the equivalent of being on a ketogenic diet and wanting to eat three bismarck donuts but can’t because of a self-inflicted training diet. Its sheer torture.

The bright side of todays run is the sun was out. The sun comes out in Maine this time of year for half a day once a week if we’re lucky. Am I right? Leave a comment below if you dispute this claim. In addition to clouds and rain, April is also famous for wind. I do love a good tailwind especially when I’d rather be eating a fat laden sugar filled donut but I won’t.

In the beginning of my adult running career I used to run as hard and fast as I possibly could each time I went out for a workout. That seemed right. If I was getting in a workout I’d better smash it. Now I do long slow runs to put miles on my legs. At times I can walk faster than I run on my intentionally slow running days. Feels silly but it works for training.

When I was nine and in the fourth grade my parents were runners. They typically tag teamed going out for their training runs except one time. It was a Sunday and they both went out together. My sister and I were playing outside minding our own business until one of us realized we hadn’t seen Mom or Dad for a while. I guess they figured we were so occupied playing in the woods that we wouldn’t miss them. Back in those days we stayed home alone in the summer while our parents went to work. The rules were, no TV, stay outside but in the back yard, and if you answer the telephone don’t say to anyone you are home alone. We are both still alive to this day.

For my ninth birthday I received my all time favorite outfit. A yellow terry cloth two piece track suit that was a tank/shorts combo trimmed with thick while edging. I might have taken it off only on Saturdays when my mother did the laundry. I loved that suit. Dad started taking me out on short runs with him. My first run was a mile out and back. I wore my track suit and it was awesome.

Dad would run next to me teaching me how to breath calmly and of course how to properly heal strike with each step. The 80’s were quiet a time. Occasionally my father would step on frogs that would make a noise from behind him. He would turn around and say, “oh, I stepped on a frog.” I never saw a frog on our runs similar to how I never saw the tooth fairy or got to watch the show “bedtime” at night. Those remain some of life’s great mysteries.

Once I mastered the one mile out and back Dad challenged me to run two miles out and back. So I did with him by my side. I smashed it that day and felt like a champion. Filled with pride and accomplishment I went straight home and continuously played the Rocky theme song, Eye of the Tiger, on my parents record player in the living room. I had the 45. I’m pretty sure I wore the needle out and my sister wanted to kill me from the insanity of it all. But I didn’t care. I was nine, I had on my yellow track suit, and I just ran four miles with my Dad. I was ready to take on the world.

Those early running days influenced who I became as a person. I learned my body together with my mind are capable of taking on any challenge set before me on my path. I also earned that running with another person, especially my Dad, creates a special bond. Those times together I will never forget. That made me who I am, someone who dislikes running around a track but still loves bismarck donuts. You can ask anyone. They’ll tell you that’s true. The funny thing was back then I never refueled or hydrated after any run. Maybe because I was too engrossed in Eye of the Tiger. I’m pretty sure it was because it was the 80’s and proper nutrition wasn’t a thing.

As I got older I did sports like soccer, softball, basketball. Yuck. Hard objects and people charging after me or just charging. No thank you. My favorite part of soccer was the pregame warm up when we ran together in harmony around the track. No one was trying to knock me down and take my stuff.

The summer before my junior year of high school marked the time in my life I was so bored that all I wanted to do was run. I would layout, catch some sweet sun cancer, then off I’d go running. It was freedom. I was too young to have a car and running would allow me to go out and explore. Adventure running in concrete jungle. It’s a thing.

My first day as a senior my english teacher asked me what I did all summer. I gave him a mini elevator speech and said, “running.” Unbeknownst to me he was the cross country coach. He said, “you should join the cross country team.” And so I did.

Let me tell you trail running was nothing like running in the concrete jungle. There were roots to contend with. And trees. Lots and lots of trees. I love nature but at 17 I somehow didn’t expect the trees to seem so endless.

One day we had to run a six mile loop. I had no idea what that actually meant until I got out there. After the first two miles of nothing but roots and trees I popped out onto the road and felt extremely far away from the finish line. Oh boy. Then came the intense cramps in my stomach which was likely from the lack of fuel I had going into this distance run. My coach drove by in a small white pickup truck with an unforgettable smile on his face cheering me on. I yelled out, “I have really bad cramps…” I was pretty sure something was about to burst inside of my body. My coach said, “You’re fine!” I thought he was evil. After a while the cramps subsided.

Then a miracle happened. A spiritual experience. An ah ha moment. Once I crossed the fifth mile marker I became a machine. I went into full throttle mode. It was my first runners high. I soured to the finish and high five’d my coach who was still wearing that same smile on his face he was wearing when he saw me suffering. I smashed my first 10K run. I was so excited. I went straight home with so much excitement to tell my dad. He was excited too. The only things missing was the Rocky theme song and my yellow track suit.

Next month I’ll be running a half marathon with my brother Gabe who is running his first marathon. I’ll be running part of that race with him in honor of his hard work and perseverance, in honor of myself as a nine year old, and in honor of my dad who taught me everything he knew in the 80’s.

I’ll be the girl on the field running to Eye of the Tiger in her new yellow terry cloth track suit grinning from ear to ear for the sheer freedom of running with others on my adventure in the concrete jungle. I’ll be running with other people in harmony. I’ll won’t be charged after and no one will be trying to take my stuff. I’ll celebrate not running on a track for this race and I will ultimately celebrate with a bismarck donut. I might even catch a bit of tailwind for part of the race but I won’t care. I’ll be empowering myself while my mind and my body work in partnership as the rest of me will be happily along for the ride. I might even find one of those frogs but I won’t admit to it.

Till next time, fellow runners. I hope to see you out there when we can smash it together.