October
28, 2018
Lawton, Oklahoma
1826
days ago, I was having a rotten night in the middle of a rotten season. It was
Monday, one of my two rest days for running. Rest days were my worst days in
this season, and suddenly, impulsively, I reasoned if rest days were too hard,
I shouldn’t take them. I will start a running streak, I decided. Just like
that. And the next day, I went out to run, and now, 1826 days later, I have not
missed a day.
This
evening I rounded up my parents (for pictures!) and set off to run 5 miles to
celebrate 5 years of daily running. I did stop for pictures at the first mile
because that mile is when the streak counted. Then I went on and ran the other
4.
To celebrate I treated myself to new--old--shoes. Some who have known me a while remember Pink Magic. The Asics Gel Nimbus 14s were brand new in 2013 when they arrived around the day after Valentine's Day. All of a sudden, I felt like my feet could fly. Pink Magic became my closest companion. When the next year's model came out, Asics had changed the heel-to-toe drop from 8mm to 13mm. And I could tell the difference. As a result, I bought up every pair the previous model I could find. And I went through them like children do cookies. As I got close to the end of my supply, I saved one pair. It remained in my closet until my 5 year run. What better occasion would there be? And you know what? They felt, again, like magic. I've never found a comparable shoe.
Pink Magic |
So I ran those 5 miles, after a rough year physically, unrelated to running. My mileage had dwindled, and my speed slowed some, but in my heart I knew if I wanted to run 5 miles, I could. So I did. It was a reminder of the miracle of my own body.
____________________
Five years. Think back to every day you can remember over the last 5 years. Whatever day that was, I went for a run. Here’s what my numbers look like for the last 5 years:
· 5385.91 miles
· 2228 different
activities
· 1826 days in
a row
Some of my stats and PRs from my running history |
But there is the stuff that can’t be quantified. Here are 5 Lessons learned in 5 years of daily running
1. There's not much you can't
run through
I
suppose a broken leg might stop a streak, but really, we let ourselves give up
long before we have to most of the time.
During
the past five years, I’ve been fortunate to be in mostly good shape, as far as
being able to run; however, I did have two bouts of some real sickness, which
included pneumonia and sinus infections. Believe it or not, the sinus
infections were harder to run with than pneumonia. Truthfully, the first round
of sickness was the sickest I had ever been, and it seemed to really attack my
body in a way where I never totally got
back to normal. Running became harder after that. My mileage has slowed
down a bit and my distance isn’t quite as long. But you know what? While many
people were wishing they were running, I was.
2. If you believe you can do
it, you have done half the work; running
is a mental sport
I
think back to the hardest day of all for me to run, April 23, 2017. I couldn’t
have been much sicker. I started to run and my Garmin had not started, so .11
(I counted later) miles in, I had to restart (to have a qualified running
streak, you have to be certain you actually run a mile). I sat on the grass and
cried. It had taken me probably an hour to get up the strength to go—as it had
most days of the sickness. I remember someone driving by and seeing me sitting
there. She stopped and asked if I was okay. “Yes, thank you; I’m just taking a
break.” It was the first time I considered giving up the streak. I was so sick,
I knew no one would think anything of it. “Just try,” I told myself. You have
to be sure. I waddled my little running legs to the track in Eisenhower Village
(where my parents live). A man came out of the neighborhood, walking his dog. I
knew I must look incredibly pitiful. But I didn’t care, suddenly, how I looked. As slow as I was
running, as lame as I looked, I was winning a race most people wouldn’t even
enter. I finished that incredibly slow run, and while I remained sick another week, no run was
ever as hard as that one. Overcoming that and slugging through it
was worth every bit of agony. And I knew it. I knew to quit right then would
only increase how utterly down I was from this lengthy illness.
The running data for the slow run in the midst of being incredibly sick. |
Running
is a mental sport when you’re healthy too. My two most challenging runs were
Grandma’s Marathon—because, hello!—it was a marathon, which is 26.2 miles and
the Fort Smith (AR) half marathon (because it was like running up a mountain
for 11 miles and down, half a mile, then maybe the rest was sort of flat. I
don’t even know how that makes sense with physics and geography and stuff, but
when I saw the mile 4 mountain, I knew my brain needed the strength to run way
more than my body. In the end, I ran every step of both the marathon and that
half (and nine other half marathons). That means I never stopped to walk, tie a
shoe, nothing. I wanted to walk during the marathon, but I knew if I walked a
step, I would make myself do another, and if I ran it all, I could be sure I
had completed the ultimate goal. So I ran. Every running accomplishment I have
is a matter of will and mental strength, even more than physical.
SO earned this! |
Mid-marathon smile. |
The moment I worked so hard for--and one that is mine forever. Becoming a marathoner! |
Because I did it! 26.2 miles, and then some, running every single step. |
3. Don't give yourself
opportunity to regret
I
know one day I might be wholly unable to run, and when that day comes, I want
to look back on these days and know I took advantage of the fact I could run at
will. I never want to regret not running when I had the chance. So I run.
Do
it now. Whatever you’re dreaming of doing someday, do it now. And follow
through. Often, especially as I have found myself with some health challenges
in the last year or so, I have thought to myself, what if I couldn’t run
anymore? I would regret not running when I was able to do so, and I know it.
It’s something that applies to life in general. How much do we avoid doing
because we aren’t sure or we want to wait for some billboard to tell us to? Unless there is a compelling reason not to, then take the chance. Don’t wake up
one day in regret.
4. You have time to do
exactly what matters to you.
Do
you have an hour or two a day with nothing scheduled? Maybe not, but let’s says
you run an average mile—which could be 10, or even 15 minutes (speed does not
determine if you ran it, running determines it!). We like to say we are so busy
we just don’t have any time, but every time I see a question asking how we find
time to run, I have the same simple answer. If you don't have 10 to 15 minutes
a day, you are probably so busy you're making yourself sick. Everybody has 10
to 15 minutes a day, in fact, you were spending some of yours reading this
right now. It would be more honest to say we don’t want to use our time to run
(to be with that friend, to read that book, to hike through the woods) because
it’s not a priority. I read something once where the writer suggested that
instead of responding, “I don’t have time,” we should be responding, “it’s not
a priority,” when it comes to most things. In short, the last 5 years, running
has been a priority.
5. I understand the mail
carrier
The
unofficial motto of the US Postal Service reads:
Neither snow nor rain nor
heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.
They
could say the same thing about run streakers too. And these five years, I have
had many great runs, probably more bad runs, and some very unusual runs. My
running stories are probably as diverse as you would expect in the fight to
keep a streak alive 5 years. Every 24 hour period that constitutes a day in the
time zone you are in means at least one continuous mile, or the streak is gone.
So here are a few of my challenging runs:
* Running
in circles on the 21st floor of a building in Jerusalem, several times! There
simple wasn’t enough time to go down 21 floors, get across the street to a
place not wall-to-wall people, run a mile, get back, go up, and shower—without
taking precious time away from traveling all over the West Bank. So a girl’s
gotta do what a girl’s gotta do! I turned on the Garmin, checked my step count,
and watched the time—being sure I went over on all of the above (a mile is
anywhere from 2000-2500 steps on my short legs, so I always went over 3000 and
to at least 1.10 or 1.20 and made sure the time I spent was longer than even my
slow sick runs). Since I was traveling with my parents, they often came
downstairs in our rented apartment in Jerusalem and found me running in circles
all over the small living and dining area. Of course they knew exactly what I
was doing!
* Time
zones are tricky and other than being terribly sick that couple weeks in April
2017, the next challenge was how to maneuver a mile run when we had an
overnight flight to Madrid before transferring to our flight to Tel Aviv. I ran
on May 8 in Lawton, OK, but then suddenly it was May 9, and I was on an
airplane. I didn’t dare sleep. I had worn clothes on the flight that included
wicking fibers, Under Armor carpi joggers, sports bra, etc. I also had a good pair of compression socks on my legs, so I could run immediately upon landing from an international flight. In my overnight bag
were baby wipes, a whole new outfit, and lots of prayers. The plan was to run
in Madrid because we’d land in Tel Aviv in the early evening, and who knew how
long that would take to get to the hotel (wise choice since I was detained by
Israeli immigration officials—we arrived after dark). Hotels in Israel rarely
have treadmills, so I knew Madrid was it. It was 2 a.m. Oklahoma time when we
landed, so I would have been awake anyway. We had to recheck through security,
then we went to our terminal, found our gate area, and once that was settled, I
left my bags with the parental, put two
Garmins on my wrist, and checked the step count on both as well! Then I took
off running—trying to make it look like I was just casually coasting through, perhaps
rushing back for a flight. If any official stopped me, it would have meant
beginning again. Turns out no one cared, so I made my way through T4’s
Satellite area in Madrid, up and down halls, a few people looking when I
circles back and froth, but since I as obviously no threat, they didn’t care. I
window shopped, and finally hit that magic mile marker—huge relief sweeping
over me. I actually went a bit longer, to maybe 1.3, before I arrived back at
my parents’ perch. The Madrid airport doesn’t have air conditioning in some parts, so I was a
wet, soaked mess, even though it wasn’t hot. It took a long time to clean up,
and I still felt gross, but now I only had to make it four hours to Israel. We
got on our next flight—and I conked out so hard almost right away, and didn’t
wake up until we were descending into Tel Aviv. My parents were eating a snack,
which was served a while after the meal they had been served. I didn’t move the
whole time. I still have no recollection of the flight. My body knew there were
high stakes: the run. It used all its resources to keep me vigilant until it
was complete. As soon as my body took the cue that it could relax, I was out.
But I ran, despite losing 8 hours in the time change as well as being on an 8
hour flight. In the end, other than Madrid, I only had 4 actual hours of May 9
where I was on the ground.
I’ve
run with wind gusts up to 50 mph, 40 mph sustained. I’ve run in -4 to -8 wind
chills. I’ve run through snow, run on ice (they make shoe accessories for
that!). I’ve run 10 half marathons, one full marathon, and so many 5ks and
10ks/quarter marathons that I couldn’t tell you. I have run in Missouri,
Kansas, Arkansas, , Massachusetts, Minnesota, Texas, Oklahoma, Alabama, Idaho,
Wyoming, and Montana. One day, I ran three times in three different states
(Idaho, Wyoming, and Montana). I’ve run in 107 degrees, with heat indexes
higher. I’ve run on my treadmill at midnight. I’ve run around lakes, up and
down streets, through shopping centers, on the beach of the Atlantic, through
Boston streets, and by Minnesota lakes. I’ve run loops around parking lots at
midnight when the hotel treadmill was broken. I’ve run as a cold front passed
over me, experiencing the awesomeness of a hot, humid run, turning utterly
chilly. I’ve run with friends, run through pain, run through heartbreak, to celebrate. I've run to
dispel anger. I’ve run for a sort of justice for myself—to be sure someone or
something didn’t have control over me. I've run on business trips. I've run instead of eating lunch while at a conference. I've run in the middle of road trips by finding a track at a school and running 4 laps. There is very little I haven’t done to be sure I have completed my daily run.
Neither snow nor rain... |
Because
runners run. Period. That’s a phrase I have used all along. If you are a
runner, you run. Your speed, your agility, your stride, your distance, that
doesn’t make or not make you a runner. Running makes you a runner. Not a
“jogger.” You’re either walking or you’re running, perhaps slower sometimes,
but a run is a run is a run.
People
have, of course, tried to tell me it’s not healthy to run every day. That’s a
myth. I remember my coach in Kansas City, Jan Schmidt, a former competitive
runner, a health professional with a master’s degree who has worked in a
hospitals and taught in a university—I asked her when I first began if it would be a bad idea. She told
me that it was more about mileage than it was how often I ran. I didn't up my mileage really, just my frequency. I assure you that
running a mile a day on those semi-rest days is probably less strenuous than some of your errands or
dinner parties on some of your own rest days.
Thanks, Jan! (Go see her at Blue Bicycle in Kansas City, MO!) |
____________________
When I think about the five years that have passed, I am a bit amazed I've accomplished this. I can't think of much I have done for five years straight--if anything at all. That's a long time, yet it's actually gone by quickly. Running has become a part of me; it's inseparable from the person called Suz. It is as natural as brushing my teeth, showering, checking my email, or doing laundry. It's just what I do.
To think that on October 28, five years ago,
during one of the most difficult times of my life, I had a random thought that I would start a
running streak really blows me away. I didn’t have an endgame. I’ve decided that as long as I was
struggling through that time in my life, I would continue to run daily so I
could assure myself that every day would have something good in it. That awful situation
itself ended, became resolved, and life went on. And so did my running streak. Five years later, the only think I can say for sure is that running is in the plans for tomorrow.
Here are some pictures and a video from the big 5 for 5 run:
Posing for pictures, of course:
As I finished my five victory miles, I paused to take a picture of the beautiful evening sunset. I have had numerous sunset runs over the years, but this one held a special joy.
And of course, there must be celebration! My parents gave me cards and a balloon, and I enjoyed some cake later--because I'd already run it off!
Sunday morning I woke up to an email from the United States Running Streak Association (I am member 1262. I have no idea how I lucked out and got a 262 in my number!), congratulating me on my five year anniversary. That moved me up a notch in the organization. Currently, in the U.S., I am ranked 466 in streak runners. The record holder had 52 years before he retired his streak, so if it seems amazing to you I have gotten this far, try to imagine that. The best part about being a member is that when the streak ends, I get to officially "retire" it so it stays alive, in a sense. My major goal was to make it to five years. But goals are made to be surpassed.