Running


Running is as vital to me as breathing. I have been running in one form or another for as long as I can remember. Growing up, we didn’t have computers or video games, so most of the games we played involved running. Unfortunately, I wasn’t the fastest, but I wasn’t exactly the slowest, either. And my endurance was mediocre compared to the other boys in the neighborhood.

I didn’t begin running per se until my freshman year at Divine Heart Seminary when I joined the cross-country team. I wasn’t disciplined enough to train properly, but I finished every race. I don’t believe I was ever last. My first race was the Marshall County Meet in Indiana. I had never run in an organized race before, so I had no idea about how fast to run or how to pace myself. So, I ran ahead of the entire pack, and everyone was cheering me on. However, I soon faded and lost contact with the lead pack. I hated the pain and felt like quitting. I also felt embarrassed that when I returned to the spectators’ view, I was no longer in the lead, but toward the end with the last runners. I don’t remember my finishing time, but somehow, I was awarded a ribbon.

When I transferred to another high school, they didn’t have a cross country team. As much as I disliked the pain, I sometimes felt from running, I missed running cross country. I didn’t really run much the rest of my high school years, but I did do a lot of walking instead of taking the bus around Chicago.

When I turned nineteen, I was working in a peanut butter factory as a manual laborer and suddenly I felt a strong urge to begin running again. I wanted to be in shape, and I associated being able to run long distances as the equivalent of being in shape. I still feel that way. So, I started running again.

I remembered the shin splints I had when I first started running cross country as I felt them when I started running again at age nineteen. I suddenly remembered how hard and painful running can be. Yet this somehow encouraged me to keep running. To keep running against myself. I needed to overcome the shin splints, the side stitches I felt on every run, and the feeling of quitting and doing something that was as painful. But I kept running. Running gave me great satisfaction! And a great sense of accomplishment! I felt good about myself that I had run, despite the soreness I felt afterwards. Gradually, there was less pain and soreness as I continued running regularly and felt more pleasure during the run and afterwards, too. Now, decades later, I’m still running, thankful I never quit! 

Running


95 degrees, but I finished 8th in 2:44!

I’m enjoying my summer vacation from teaching so far. I get up whenever I feel like. I have a cup of black coffee while I rub the sleep from my eyes. I more or less kill time and stall before I go out my front door for my morning run before it gets too hot out.

Lately, I’ve been slowing down on my runs. I’m not sure if it’s due to age and/or allergies. Of course, I’ve had these experiences before, even when I was in my twenties.

I have been running, on and off again, since high school. I first started running competitively at Divine Heart Seminary when I joined the cross country team. For some reason I wanted to be on a school team because I thought it would be cool to be a high school jock.

My first race was the Marshall County Cross Country Championship in Indiana. Since I didn’t know any better, I ran alongside the lead pack right from the start. After about a mile, I suddenly slowed down to a crawl, or so it seemed to me. I’m not sure where I placed, but I received a ribbon.

I have one run that I will never forget: I was running on some backwoods road in Camp Pendleton when I felt a presence running alongside me. I looked over my shoulder and saw a coyote. At first, I was startled, but I continued running as if this were normal. The coyote and I ran together for about five minutes before we went our separate ways. Well, enough stalling! I am now going out for my morning run.

DDR