On Being a Runner

Sun beating down on my shoulders, legs pumping to the beat of my music, smile plastered on my face--these are some of my favorite feelings as a runner.  While I played soccer competitively through high school, I wasn't a runner until about 4 years ago. When DD told me she was running a half marathon, my uber-competitiveness kicked in and I decided I could to that too! And so I did. 

I started slow, not really trusting my body to be able to carry me 3 miles, 4 miles, 5 miles.  But my body didn't fail. It kept going because I forced it to. Even in the summer heat, I forced my body to continue.  I finished my first half marathon, then my second. And I thought, wow, if I can do this, I can do a full marathon.  So I pushed my body more.  I forced it to do 15, 16, 18 mile training runs every weekend.  I forced myself to run continuously.  I would cry when my body wouldn't go or needed to rest.

And I did it. 26.2 miles, and then two more half marathons after that.  I've since taken a break from training, thinking, oh, I'll be pregnant and therefore won't be able to train. Well...a year and half since my last half marathon...and I still haven't trained for anything else, always hoping that I will be pregnant.

I still run, three miles two to three times a week (as much as the doctor allows).  I still love the feeling of pushing my legs harder, faster, farther.  I love the exhilarating feeling when I finish a run, thinking, I did that. I made my body do this.  I pushed through pain and heat and fatigue. 

I hate that I can't force my body to be pregnant, hate that I'm not in control.  Being a runner makes me feel in control of myself, and when I run now, I contemplate all the things I wish I could do. Get pregnant easily, have a baby, stop my mind from spinning.  But I can't do any of these things. I can't force my legs across any "baby finish line." 

Finishing my marathon was the proudest and hardest moment of my life.  If I can have the stamina and perseverance to do that, I have to believe I can get through this, too.  Right now, I'm figuratively on mile 22, wanting to give up and sit down at the medical booth just to have someone take care of me.  But I won't.  I will keep running.