Running has been a consistent part of my life for over a decade, and I’ve run countless miles on roads, courses, and trails. My relationship with it is ever-evolving, but it’s been a consistent source of joy for me. I’ve been running formally since I was six, starting with a local community cross-country program in my hometown. I competed in middle and high school, and did a few 5K’s in between. A lot of my runs are done solo, in my own time.
Running has provided me access to a community of people who share many of the same values as me. There is a remarkable undercurrent of sportsmanship in the global running community. The vast majority of runners at any level have respect for their competitors, the officials, and themselves. It’s not uncommon to hear supporters (even families and coaches) of other runners cheering for you. This support has solidified for me there are competitive environments that don’t revolve around cutting others down, and this is something to strive for in other areas of my life.
Team spirit for my high school team meant some of my closest relationships came from the cross-country team. I went to a summer camp for runners from all around my state in high school, and had the opportunity to bond over a common interest. Even since coming to university, I have been able to find community with other runners. Running means I have immediate access to other people who share my love of the sport.
However, running has been even more significant for my own personal journey. I have not been able to replicate the feeling I get after a good run anywhere else. There is a unique space I reach in my head while running – a calm, neutral place for me to mentally unpack. Taking a run to clear my head almost always makes me feel better if I’m stressed.
Running has also made me more in touch with my mental and physical needs. After sustaining an avoidable injury that kept me from running freely for almost a year, I had to learn to listen to my body. I remain more mindful of how exercise affects my body, and can now give myself the permission to stop a run if something is hurting. In recovery, I also realised how grateful I was for the ability to run. It’s not a privilege everyone has, and I now know I took it for granted. Now, I feel a spark of gratitude every time I run. Runs have led me to some beautiful places. I have run up mountains, and across beaches, and seen some great sunsets. I feel much more connected to nature after a run. Adventures through new places with running buddies are some of my favourite memories.
Last year, I had to take stock of my relationship with running. I was feeling burnt out, and going for a run felt more like an obligation. I was dreading going for runs, instead of feeling excited. I had to take time off from running completely and reflect on why it wasn’t bringing me joy. The epiphany I had was that competition was not what I liked about running – it’s how running makes me feel. I realised I was focusing too much on mileage and speed. I know a lot of people who live for their weekly mileage, and pushing themselves to the edges of their abilities makes them happy. But this outlook wasn’t serving me, so I gradually reintroduced running for joy into my life. I didn’t calculate mileage at all; instead, I focused on finding new routes and running more often.
I realised I like to run for me, not according to other people’s goals. My goals for running are now more about getting exercise in a way that makes me feel good mentally and physically. I can still tap into a great community. And the great thing about running is it’s an individual sport. I can do it on my own, according to my rules.