When Did I Become a Runner?

When did I become a runner? When was the shift made? When did I move from simply running... from being someone who runs... to being a runner?

I thought about this today as I ran through the woods... a light mist washing over my face... the soft earth yielding softly under each stride... the smell of clean air and rich soil filling my senses. When did I become a runner? And for that matter, what is it that makes a person a runner?

It's funny. When I started running back some 6 or 7 months ago I never intended on becoming a runner. I just needed to loose weight. I had been going to the gym three times a week for about a month and decided to add a little running into the mix. Actually, it started off as walking. I couldn't run--too fat and out of shape. But soon I worked up to running a little--a minute or two--then a little more, and then a little more. I'm up to about 18 miles a week now, and slowly building as I prepare for a half-marathon in April. So when did I make the switch? When did I become a runner.

Was it when I did my first race? Is that when I became a runner? Or is it when my per mile pace finally dropped into the 8 minute range? I've heard people say that you're really not a runner until you are running in the 8 minute per mile range. Up until then you're just a jogger (or maybe just some one who goes out for a jog).

But you know, that doesn't work for me. I think there's something more. Being a runner is more than about performance and times. It's about more than pace. Being a runner is about more than races and training strategies. And the more I think about it, the more I think it has something to do with identity. The more I think about it, the more I think it has something to do with that word "being."

Identity is powerful. We tend to become what we identify with. That's when I think I became a runner--when I began calling myself as a runner... when I started to think of myself as a runner... when I identified myself as a runner, that's when I became a runner.

It wasn't an overnight thing. It didn't happen all of a sudden. It was a process. As I ran more and more, that running started to change me. I did loose weight--a lot of weight. But it also started to change me in ways I hadn't counted on. Moods, outlook, emotions, these all were changed as I ran. I found I could deal with things better. My mind was clearer, more focused. I had more energy. All these things (and more) changed as I ran. And soon I discovered that I was a runner.

Paul says in one of his letters to one of the early churches, "I identified myself completely with him [Christ]. Indeed, I have been crucified with Christ. My ego is no longer central. It is no longer important that I appear righteous before you or have your good opinion, and I am no longer driven to impress God. Christ lives in me. The life you see me living is not 'mine,' but it is lived by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. I am not going back on that" (Galatians 2.20-21, The Message).

Well, we're back from Victoria. It was a great trip. The run went well. We had a nice time together. And, actually, my goal was met. I'll write more about goals, dreams, and ambitions in another entry some time. Here are some picture we took while we were up there.



Here we are in the Empress Hotel. Actually it's just leaving the hotel to make our way over to the convention center to check out the Expo and pick up my race number.





This is the parliament building all lit up at night. We're looking across the harbor.






Here's the end of the race. That's me in the red shirt. Lookin' good... actually I was fried.

Well, tomorrow we'll be heading up to Victoria BC. It's our anniversary (22 years). It's also time for that 8k--the one I've been training for (I know, 8k doesn't sound like a big deal, but I haven't been running all that long).

Anyway, this morning as I went out for my last easy run, I was thinking about how it all comes down to the race. All the preparation, all the training it's all over; now it's time to run the race. There are a lot of thoughts and feelings that go along with that: Did I do enough? How will I do? What if I don't meet my expectations or goals? And I'm sure there are others I can't think of right now. But the point is, now it's time to perform.

You know, sometimes I think preparation is easier--training is easier--it certainly is safer. When you train you don't have to worry about the results so much. A ten minute mile or a seven minute mile, it doesn't really matter. But in a race... well, now that's a different story. The race is a measure of your performance. It's a test of how well the training went. And there's no hiding when race day comes.

And really, that's a good thing. It gives some accountability. I need accountability--we all do. With the race always dangling out there as the goal, I can get up and head out for a run when it's raining. With the race staring me in the face, I can push through that last lap of a tempo run. Goals do that for us. They build accountability.

Maybe that's why all too often spiritual growth is stunted--we have no accountability. Now I'm not necessarily talking about having someone checking up with us on our prayer life. I'm thinking more in terms of the accountability that goals create. I don't know if we do that enough with our spiritual life.

It's kind of like all our prayer, Bible reading, church going is all about the training. We just keep doing it. And it's great. We certainly gain from it. We certainly grow from it. But it lacks the focused growth that a goal can produce. When I train for a race, I am focused. Everything I do is about my performance in that race. The type of runs I do, the foods I eat (and don't eat), everything prepares me for that particular race.

What would happen to our spiritual growth if we were to do that same sort of thing? I mean, what if we were to sit down with a pastor, a mentor, a spouse, and say, "Here are my spiritual goals for this year"? For one thing, I think it would make us take a much closer look at where we are in our relationship with God, and where we need to be. The other thing I think it would do is give us a more focused application and use of the spiritual disciplines.

You see, right now I think we go about things a bit backwards. We do "this," "this," and "this," and expect "that" to happen. But that would be like saying I'm going to run 3 miles on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and 6 weeks I expect to be able to run a marathon. It's not going to happen. What I need to do is to determine that I want "This" to happen in my life, so I need to do "this, "that," and "that" in order to make it happen. Working from the goal to the disciplines make much more sense than doing it the other way around.

Anyway, I'll have to wait and see if I did enough to be ready for the race. Meanwhile though, I think I need to start working on developing some spiritual goals to fuel and focus my spiritual training.

Runners are a funny breed. Or at least some of us are. There's something in us that keeps us pushing... plodding along when we'd rather be at home... lifting the pace when we'd rather just throw in the towel... reaching deep within ourselves when we'd much rather forget about the whole thing and eat a pizza or something. And sometimes that's a good thing. Sometimes running is just plain old work. Sometimes you need to just push through those difficult runs.

But sometimes... sometimes it's not such a good thing. Sometimes instead of pushing, we need to simply rest.

I've read a lot lately about rest. Fitness, it seems, doesn't happen so much in the run as it does in the rest and the recovery. Running stresses. Running breaks things down. Running pushes our muscles, stresses our system... maxes our bodies to the point of breaking. Rest allows our bodies to repair the damage. And even more: repair the damage in such a way that we are ready for even more than before. Our bodies adapt through the recovery phase. Sometimes we need to just rest.

I find myself doing the same thing spiritually. I strive and I struggle, and I make great gains. I feel good about myself--my relationship with God. But then there comes a dry time. Those gains aren't so great. Sometimes it seems as if I'm going backwards--loosing ground. So what do I do? Try harder. Keep pushing. Fight through it. And sometimes that's what I need to do. But other times... other times I just need to rest.

Sometimes I think those dry times come to remind me that it's not my striving that matters. It's not the "great gains" I make spiritually that count. What matters... what counts is am I resting in God?

Jesus says, "Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me--watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace" (Matthew 11.28-29, The Message).

Sometimes I need to quit forcing and simply rest.

Running has become something of a prayer for me. I know I'm not alone. Others have made that spiritual connection between running and God before me. But it's new for me. Running is new for me. Or at least new again. Twenty years ago-in what seems like another life-I ran. But it's different now. I'm older. I'm slower. But I'm also more thoughtful.

As I run, my mind seems to chase down trails of thought. Often without direction. Sometimes on carefully guided paths. But always with a free reign. Sometimes there's one thought. Other times there are many. Sometimes, near the end of the run, they become connected-almost like it's taken all this time to disconnect myself (my prejudices and preconceived notions) in order to see just how they fit together.

What I'd like to do is record (maybe even remember) some of these thoughts... Some of these connections. Like many of the thoughts on my runs, I'm not sure where this will take me. But destinations aren't nearly as important as the journey. I suppose I'm really not after "getting somewhere" as much as I am about opening up to the journey and the discovery that waits along the way.

I've picked the name "On the Run" for my first Blog because that's what it's about-those thoughts that meet me on the trail as I run... those prayers that become for me bread and life... those spiritual encounters I have... on the run.