In the New York Times today, an opinion piece appeared entitled “I Hate Running. I Trick My Brain Into Doing It Anyway.” That’s me! I had to comment:
I’m glad I’m not alone. I started running at age 50 in order to participate in a sprint triathlon. I hadn’t run a step since age 12, when I went 3 times around a track for a Boy Scout merit badge. Ever since, I’d viewed running as a sweaty, joint-destroying, asthenic activity filled with misguided romantics.
Unfortunately during that triathlon (which was supposed to be “one-and-done”), I discovered that due to my size (5’10”, 148#), I was good at it, and thus successful at the triathlon. So commenced a 20+ year career with multiple Ironman races and stops in Kona, Hawaii and Boston. I gained lots of friends who do “ultras”, 100- 200-300 mile “races”.
But I never did learn to like running. I still have to convince myself EVERY time to go out the door. My two “tricks” are: make an appointment in advance and have a goal race to work towards. Otherwise, it does not happen.
I have no trouble – I even look forward to – weight lifting, cycling, swimming, downhill skiing, hiking. But running? It remains in my mind a pursuit of excessively lean aesthetes who seem to relish the aches, sweat, hunger and thirst involved with hopping from one foot to another for hours on end.