Running and Change

I’m a runner.

There. I said it.

I’m basing this claim on Dr. George Sheehan’s definition of a runner that I’ve seen (with slight variations) all over the Web: the difference between a jogger and a runner is an entry blank.

I entered and ran a race this year, so I’m going to start calling myself a runner.

For years I wouldn’t allow myself to be called a runner. I’d correct people. “Well, I’m a jogger. I mean, I’m slow. Really slow.” And I am slow. Dreadfully slow. I’m so slow, in fact, that my average time per mile for that half marathon I ran in May was the same as that of a friend who walked it. She’s a fast walker, but I’m definitely a slow runner.

What makes the whole discussion awkward for me is that I used to be fast. When I was in junior high and high school, I was a sprinter. I can’t remember my times, but I won the 100m- and 200m-dash quite often in our local meets. I felt like a runner in those days, because when the gun went off–Pow! I ran!

Distance is a completely different experience, and my sprinter’s body (and mentality) wasn’t naturally inclined to logging miles. When I started trying to run for fitness, I could barely jog more than a mile. So tiring. Exhausting. I wasn’t made for that.

But I kept at it. Mostly for fitness, I suppose, but I kept getting out there and jogging–er, running. Over the years, I learned that I could run much longer than I ever thought possible. I learned to keep going when I felt like stopping; but after my knee problem, I also learned to stop and walk when I really need to. Running has kept me fairly fit and seen me through some blue post-partum periods of my life. It’s offered me times of solitude-in-motion, to pray and think. I’ve even taken books on tape to listen to on long runs, when I was feeling particularly geeky.

Pushing myself has been good. I’ve learned a degree of self-discipline. I’ve grown to like distance running. I doubt I’ll ever be the obsessive type who clocks splits and sets aggressive PRs, but I do generally enjoy a run once I actually get in motion.

A couple of years ago, I asked my parents to subscribe to Runner’s World for me. Each month, the magazine includes inspirational stories of various kinds. Many of these stories talk about how running is a tool for change in a person’s life.

Last September I clipped one of those inspirational stories that stood out to me. It was about two nuns who lead a group home for kids ages 3 to 12 in New Hampshire. Running is a part of their daily routine, and the nuns have seen how therapeutic running is for these abused children. They see progress and develop strength as they practice this daily, healthy habit. Many of the children are coping with anger, and running is a release, helping them deal with their emotions in a positive way. Plus, they’re in such good shape, they try out for school sports and usually perform quite well, which helps build self-esteem. A link to the story is here.

Having experienced firsthand how running has helped my own emotions and been part of building self-esteem, I was drawn to the story, and also to the sisters’ love for the Lord and those children.

Runner’s World has recorded other ways people have used their love of running to inspire others. In this month’s issue, there’s a story about two young Stanford grads who formed a running program in Kenya to help orphans, called Hope Runs. The name points to the benefits to these children receive from regular running.

My sister-in-law, who has devoted her life to social justice issues, pointed out that a great place to start when exploring how to give is with your personal passions. She referenced that well-known Frederick Buechner quote that says (I paraphrase) your calling is where your deepest desire intersects with the world’s greatest needs. I don’t know that my deepest desire is to run, but I see and reap its benefits. I might enjoy sharing that with others.

Perhaps one is greatly concerned about women’s issues, education, youth, HIV/AIDS, poverty, homelessness. Those are just some of the world’s needs–and may also be one’s greatest passion. But these people–the nuns, the Stanford grads–combined their love of running with a passion to help children in need. They kind of pieced it all together in a way that really benefits people in need, and is based on a passion in those who form and lead the group. I love that. So many people today say to follow your love and passion, and the money will follow. That seems so self-serving. These stories are much more inspiring by illustrating how people followed their love and passion (and concerns), and the change has followed. Children’s lives have been changing.

These stories help me see that I can move outside my comfort zone to help others while still capitalizing on my personal interests and passions. Writing, running, nature, simplicity, learning…little-by-little I could experiment and explore the possibilities with these interests, hopefully engaging the entire family in some way. I don’t right now know what that will look like or if we will actually be bold enough to take a step. But it gets me thinking. I’m open. 

In the meantime, I need to slip on my running shoes and log a few miles. I need to be in the best shape possible, should inspiration hit.