Running Toward, Running Away

My Crazy Decision to Come Out of Running Retirement at Age 50

“You’re either running toward something, or you’re running away from something.” 

This is what my friend Randy Kottke told me back in 2010, when we were introduced. He departed this earth in 2019, but his wisdom lives on. 

Then I was running away from a boss who tended to dump work on me. I was running toward a new boyfriend (the runner that introduced me to Randy). I feared my heart would get broken (again) but I ran anyway. I ran alongside him when I could keep up.

I ran away from a relationship in which I’d fallen into old patterns once again, not seeing how I’d wanted to “save” this person. I ran headlong into my own shadow, projected onto him. I ran toward my desire for stability, only to find myself doubting my worthiness and my lovability. 

Running was something I had discovered in my teens. It was a way to burn off stress, and a way to take off the pounds I believed were excessive. I’d come from a family of dieters, women who were slightly overweight (at the time) who wanted to be “better” (translation: thinner). 

They were shamed for their sloth, for their hunger, for their desire for something better in their lives. They ran from the voices telling them they were too fat. They ran toward the diet plans that the fitness industry was all too eager to sell them. 

They didn’t realize that their daughters were watching, and listening, and internalizing the fat phobia that they saw as striving for goodness. 

Today I run from anyone who judges my body as too fat, or not their type. Before I met my current husband, I was in a relationship in which I was told: “you’re not the usual type of woman I date.” I understood that he meant his previous wife and girlfriends were thinner than me.

I’d been running on and off for years, and bicycling as well. I enjoyed the feeling of building up my endurance and feeling proud of how well I did after a race. Then, in 2007 I joined a company where a lot more people were running than I’d ever known before. Sponsor of the Twin Cities Marathon and its signature 10-miler, I couldn’t help but get drawn into the cult…(ahem) culture there. 

The running community became my friends. While using DailyMile, I tracked my workouts, and saw my progress in graphic formats. The clinical researcher in me was impressed with myself. Watching incremental progress in my long runs every weekend felt great. Getting faster over time was also a boost. 

Taken in September 2011 at the Little Grand Canyon Half Finish.

I ran toward strength physically, but also emotionally. Though workdays were stressful, I had a way to “run it out” of my system. I ran from the notion that my body had to be thin to be acceptable. I ran toward the idea that endurance was available to me, despite a body that was larger than average.

Maybe I ran to get affirmation in an area where I hadn’t had it before. I was no athlete in high school, though I ran my first 5k turkey trot when I was 16 and finished first in my age group. It’s a trophy I still treasure. 

In 2010, my then-boyfriend (now husband) Clem got obsessed with the Marathon Maniacs. I was running half marathons. What was the harm in joining the Half Fanatics? My membership page still lists 27 of the 28 races I completed that were half marathons or longer. This obsession cooled in 2015 as I got promoted to a manager role at work, and traveled more internationally. 

Photo taken at the Tacoma City Half Marathon in May 2013.

I kept running 10-milers though. I also signed up for a “last gasp” half in 2019 because my friends were making the trip also. I ran toward community, though I was finding this in other ways, in yoga studios, and through online writing groups.

Running helped me feel free from the confines of my “little” self. I was part of a much larger community, a group that had become friends. It helped me appreciate how I could support other people’s goals, and that we could mutually benefit from holding each other accountable.

Running brought me romance, blisters, sex, injuries, and hotels rooms in cities I never thought I would visit. It brought me to Clem, and helped me realize our relationship went far beyond the miles we logged on our tracking apps. 

I ran toward a more loving relationship with my body, mind, and soul. And am I still grateful for it. 

Running with a bunch of women friends can be a blast! Encouragement, good vibes, and (sometimes) matching socks.

But in 2020 most races were canceled, and I didn’t want to gather in big groups. I had no desire to spend my money on race registration fees. It felt indulgent and unnecessary. I was on a tighter budget.

Also I no longer need to burn off the stress I’d felt while working in a competitive corporate environment. In recent years my now 50-year-old body dances and does yoga, less competitive and kinder to my joints than running on pavement.

However, two weeks ago, after many years of skipping the race scene, I signed up for the Twin Cities 10k only 4 weeks out. I’d had just tracked a friend running the Superior 100 Ultramarathon. I was excited watching his progress online. I shared this with a friend who will run the Loony Challenge, a 10k, 5k, and 10-miler all in one weekend. All it took was my friend giving me a discount code and encouraging me to come out of running retirement to sign up.

The next morning, I felt like I’d woken up from a hangover. What had I done, signing up for this race?!?  I have run only sporadically over the summer, typically only 4k or 5k at most, with generous walk breaks. I walk daily, but that’s not the same as running.  

Now, with two weeks to go until the 10k, and my longest training run/walk to date at 8k, I wonder: 

Am I running toward something? 

Yes. My own vitality and good feelings. My connection with friends during a challenging time in my life. My desire to exit my physical comfort zone once again. 

Am I running away from something?

Yes. My fears of physical decline as I watch my elderly parents age. And the grief of knowing my Dad’s not likely to return from the care home where he is now. 

What are you running or moving toward these days?

Are you running away from anything?

How does it feel to be propelled by a goal, versus escaping a difficult situation? 

P.S. I’ll check back in after the race (Oct 5, 2024) to let you know how it went, and if I got what I needed from the event.