The Whole Kit and Kaboodle

I only took one week off from running, and only missed one long run, but that very short hiatus made me realize something. It's not just the actual motion of running that I miss when I'm forced to take time off - it's everything before, during, and after. All the rituals, all the excitement, and even all the pain.

I miss

- obsessively checking the hourly weather forecast the night before my run

- gathering up my gels, water bottle, and iPod, and plugging in my Garmin before I go to bed

- waking up at the crack of dawn and having a cup of coffee and breakfast while everyone else is asleep, savoring the quiet, and watching the sun come up

- getting geared up, and agonizing over whether or not I'm overdressed or underdressed for the weather conditions

- figuring out where I'm going to stash all my gels

- those first few steps, where you wonder what kind of run it's going to be - one of the great ones that you wish would never end, one of the so-so ones, or one of the ones where you're tempted to call home and ask to be rescued

- hearing my favorite songs as I get moving, recollecting all the different races that I've run in while listening to them

- the little beeps from my Garmin as I cross each mile mark

- running through town, peeking in store windows, most of which are empty on my early morning jaunts

- observing how the eery early-morning quiet is slowly edged out by the increased traffic as the morning goes on

- exchanging waves, hellos, and friendly nods with other runners, walkers, and bikers

- being out in the fresh air, even when it's really cold, or rainy, or hot

- the 'sweet spot' of my long runs, which is usually around 6 or  7 miles - that spot where I feel like I could run forever, and I can't help but smile as I make my way down the road, feeling so blessed and so lucky that I'm able to be out there doing what I love

- the last few miles, when I know I'm almost done, and my muscles and joints are screaming at me to stop, and I'm forced to dig down deep and find those last reserves of energy that I know I have in there somewhere

- walking in the house after my run and having Carmine look up at me and smile, and say "Mommy run!"

- hobbling around the kitchen, taking off my iPod and Garmin, putting my phone down, emptying my pockets of unused Gu packets, and taking a moment to revel in what I just accomplished

- stretching sore, achy muscles

- refueling, i.e, EATING!

- downloading and analyzing my Garmin data, and oohing and aahing over my fastest splits, and noticing how I 'barely slowed down at all while charging up that monster hill'

- updating my Facebook status, to let my friends and family know that I just took yet another step towards my marathon goal, and seeing their encouraging words and notes come back at me

- taking a long, hot shower and getting into warm, dry clothes

- spending the rest of the day feeling proud of how tired and sore I am, because it's a sign of how hard I'm working and how dedicated I am

- looking at my training plan to see what's next on the schedule!

Every little piece, every little bit of it - I love it all. It's part of my life, it's who I am, and I can only hope that I get to keep doing it for a long, long, long, long time.

Comments

[Jennifer P]

Same here on all counts!

Love the redesign Michelle. Very nice!

[Nicole]

Loved reading that Michelle! All of that equals the greatest feeling there is. Well said.

[Wes]

so.... where exactly DO you stash all your gels? :-D

[Laura]

Fun post-- I can relate on all of those points too! :) Especially the coming home to the kids, warm shower, refueling and feeling accomplished for the rest of the day.