On Hating Running

As I've noted before, when I first started this running thing, I hated it. To sum up, it sucked. But two years into it (and at my goal weight), I've learned a few interesting things about that initial hatred.

After a lot of running, I've gotten a lot better at listening to my own voice. To what some call "self talk." I can recall being over 200 pounds and trying like hell to run that one, slow mile. God, that was misery. But after some months, I realized that the misery wasn't in the running at all. It was in how I treated myself. Here's how a typical script went all of three minutes into a run.

"God, this sucks... It's hot... I hate this. I'm lame...Why am I so slow? How come I can't do anything right?... How come I'm fat and my ______ [neighbor, co-worker, friend] can eat whatever she wants to? I'll never be a real athlete.... Boy, am I fat...I bet I look like such a loser to that passer-by...I'll be a plus-size forever..."

You get the idea. I didn't hate the running nearly as much as I hated myself. Running just gave me a space and a chance to feel it directly. And believe it or not, this information took me months to hear. After some time running and some time working Weight Watchers, I started not only to listen to this self-talk but to change it. I would catch myself in the monologue of misery and put a stop to it. Then, I started to replace it:

"At least I'm out here doing it...I'm taking care of myself...I'm setting a good example for my son... Each of these steps gets me closer to a goal...Every day I do this is one more victory... I'm making improvements...A real runner is someone who runs. Period."

A year or two later (yeah, it actually takes a while), that old script is long gone. And when or if it should sneak back in--I'm on the lookout and ready to pounce.

Oh, and I don't hate running anymore.