Running, How I Miss Thee

I used to run. I ran in Central Park. I ran on Chicago's lakefront. I ran in the morning. I ran in the evening. I ran marathons, halfs, 5Ks, 8Ks, 10Ks. I was a runner. I ran for my sanity, for weight control, for strong quads and hams, for overall conditioning. I ran to feel alive.

Well, folks, I've been feeling less than alive. The last time I ran more than 4 miles consistently was Spring 2008. Then I started taking fertility drugs. Those suckers make your ovaries the size of tennis balls. So running was out of the question, at least for two weeks a month. So once I'd get any momentum going, I'd have to stop for 10 or 12 days. Running started to fade from my life.

Then I got pregnant. And because I was out of running shape, I was warned to not take it back up because pregnancy relaxes a woman's muscles, and thus I was very prone to injuries. So I stuck with the gym and walking. I managed to stay in pretty good shape, gaining only 23 pounds.

Then H. came along in January 2010. Sleep deprivation took over. And over. And over. Suffice it to say, there was no running for a good 7 months. I didn't really get back on the horse until he was about 1. Then it was winter. Blizzards. Cold. Running and I maintained our distance.

Last summer I finally got back into the groove. I vividly recall a run last fall where it all came together: I ran to the lakefront, and on the way back, I was cruising...it was the long-lost runner's high, coursing through my body, lifting me along over the pavement! I was flying! I was free!

That was the last time I felt that good during a run. I got a job at a school down by Midway. It was the commute from hell. I was lucky if I could fit in a run twice a week. Usually I ran while pushing H. in the BOB, which in my humble opinion is not the same as running solo. It's harder. I have more to pay attention to. Ooo, there's a big bump in the sidewalk...gotta steer to the right. There's a moron about to blow the stop sign...whoa, Nellie. So running took a back seat once again.

Now it's summer, and I'm free two days a week. But I haven't had an easy-breezy run once. Either I've struggled to breathe in the soupy Chicago summer air, or I've had to fight off painful glutes or neck muscles...which shows you out how of shape I am.

I long for the days when running was second nature. When I could crank out five miles without a hitch. When my quads were hard as rocks. When that runner's high lifted me along, past Belmont Harbor, down around Diversey, past the beaches at Fullerton, and back along the lakefront and through BoysTown, Southport and back into Roscoe Village.

Running, I miss you. I grieve you. But I refuse to give up on you. I'll find a way to make our relationship work again. I promise.