Running is a gift, not just for the gifted

I started running in 2008, at 38 I was overweight, unfit and totally not sporty. For 38 years of my life I had not owned a decent pair of running shoes or even proper training attire. Ask anybody in my family, I am known for being a bookworm. My weight was always an issue, and being diagnosed with Hashimoto's in my mid-twenties, resulted in a thyroidectomy (removal of the thyroid) at 28. Apart from being able to swallow without feeling like someone was trying to throttle me, the removal of my thyroid did not magically heal me or solve my weight issues. I then started on a long journey of self-doubt, depression about not being able to solve my problems and general unhappiness about my body and health. I felt, that somehow my body's failings was my fault, I couldn't be strict enough or "good" enough for prolonged periods of time to maintain low-fat, low-carb, high-lettuce diets. After some additional upheaval in my personal life in 2008, I started running. I just ran on a treadmill every night to cope initially, but also noticed that suddenly I lost a bit of weight. I introduced a new habit (after about 6 weeks of regular running). Soon I walked less and ran a bit more, but I was still skittish to run "outside" on "roads" and with "people". I discovered my iPod and listened to music, or watched TV whilst working on my treadmill.

The Randburg Valentines 10km Night Race was my first. I remember the overwhelming crowds and people and the sheer magic of the carnival-like atmosphere. As an inexperienced newbie I just got into the batch at the back and started plodding. It's big race and congested, but I didn't mind. This was just to see if I liked it. I did. I finished in just under 75 minutes and received a coffee mug at the finish. My first race, I was proud and not broken, but I was still and outsider. I just sort of stood around, didn't know anybody, did not know what to do and then wandered off to my car to go home. Great experience, but I did not feel like I fitted in. Little did I know that this was the beginning of something that would become a major part of my life. I could not have guessed the many gifts running would and still bestows on me.

The next day, everything was sore, mostly my joints. The switch from treadmill to road, catching up with me, but I didn't feel discouraged, just kind of surprised that I managed it. After that race, I found the treadmill boring. I wanted to run on the road this was the first warning sign. I started jogging in my suburb, alone and very nervous, At first a bit hesitantly, but I slowly found my way and shortly started rewarding myself with gadgets (first a new iPod, then a polar heart rate monitor and finally I upgraded to my first Garmin GPS watch in 2010). I look back today and I know, after that one 10km race, I was hooked, even though I did not know it yet.

In 2008, I ran 5 races (all 10s), in 2009 I ran 19, including my first 15km, my first half marathon and then my first Tough One (32km). It was the beginning of the trend. Set a goal, train for it and then do it. At that stage, race times were still very abstract to me. Mathematically I understood the concepts but sub-60 minutes for a 10km race meant little to me. I slowly gained confidence though and even though I was still racing alone, and not thinking of myself as a runner nor as a "runner", it became my weekend thing. I looked for races on the calendar and these to train for goal races. In 2009 it was the Tough One. Races were and easy way to train, because I was still running alone. Honestly I thought the Tough One would be the longest race I would aim for (ever), a small part of me thought, maybe a marathon one day, way way in the future. And in 2009 I started a friendship, my best friend, Lesley and I met at pottery. I had started pottery to try and branch out, make friends, in an effort not become the lonely cat-lady in my suburb. I was fortunate. Lesley noticed that I was a lonely, lost, broken girl and adopted me. We soon became training buddies. We ran together 3 times a week after work or on a Saturday morning and found that we were soon part of each other's lives. Sometimes, she'd tell me about her glory days, and her Comrades training and her runs and I'd be in awe. Today she is a very part-time runner. Injuries and pushing herself too hard for her goals during her peak years almost caused her to have to stop running altogether. We've however managed to make adjustments to our training lives to always keep her part of our training. She gently pushed me to try longer distances, that is races beyond 10 kms. Which in my mind had been my limit. My first 15km (Khose 15km) nearly broke me. Those hills! But she also ran the then Township 15km with me and we pushed the last km and I discovered the concept of pacing. I was such a novice, but hidden in the training sessions, was a surprise gift, running gave me the gift of friendships.

My first half marathon (21.2 km) was the Wally. I finished in a respectable time of 2:11, I was much younger then :-) and as I finished a 70 year old oomie, finished behind me and told me well done. My first introduction to running conversation. I smiled and said it's my first 21 Oom. He smiled and said it his 100th or something in that order of magnitude. The number was huge, I forgot the actual number, but he said, he kept a record of each race he's ever run. I immediately started my own and have been keeping track of races since then. Once you've start, it's the coolest thing. I have a sheet that tally my races (date, finish times and distances). Since 2009 for example, I've run 53 half marathons and wait for it, 6 Tough Ones. I've been fortunate to have been able to run the Tough One every year since 2009. It was my first ever goal race! After the second one I noticed some people with different numbers and I overheard that one gets a special number if you've done 10 Tough Ones, so it became a goal. I want to run 10 of those! It was one of my first big running dreams, another running gift, the gift of dreaming. It's where it really started for me - in retrospect of course. The true engagement with what running is all about. Commitment to a goal. Another running gift, the gift of discipline, building towards something far in the future, the gift of commitment. I've not had a few really tough, Tough Ones, and the finish times are almost irrelevant, it's the dream that counts. So my tally of races (and I only count formal ones) and distances via races grew from five 10km races in 2008.

Somewhere along the line, I became a runner. Without knowing it or even realising it, I slowly started to believe. Slowly started to dream and then set goals. Some goals were kind of stretch goals, but somehow each time you finished a race, it felt like a little more belief grew in that dark corner of your mind. In 2010, I finally joined a club. I've been a Randburg Harrier ever since. The trouble was, I was not a Comrades runner and this is a club very much Comrades-centered. So I felt a bit "left out" or on the sidelines, not being a natural integrator an not really believing I am a real runner. I started helping out but never got the courage together to actually join in on the club runs. I just felt I was too slow, and I didn't know any runners.  I did not know runners and did not realise how easy it would have been to do this, but I know this was all part of my journey. It was a strange period in my life and even though I was a member of a running club, and even though I was running many races, I really did not find my groove within the club until much later. It is hard when you don't know people to just become part of a group by osmosis. This has never been my strong suit, socially, but I am persistent at least. I am still a Harrier and have integrated and received another gift, the gift of belonging. I am truly a club member now. I feel like a member and most of all, I feeling like a runner.

Running is a gift. Many gifts in fact. Running saved my life in many ways. It's given me the gift of belonging, the gift of dreaming, the gift of achievement, the gift of friendship and the gift of acceptance. Joy and pain are part of being a runner and a human being. Running's gifts, to all, not just the gifted, is why we run. It is greater than the individual, but it is all about the individual.

I wonder if it was meant to remind me this year especially, with Gift winning the Comrades and me having people around me that are starting their personal journeys and working on their own running goals. It's time to think and accept the gifts. It's time to share. It's time to be.

This morning I read Bo's blog how she's not planning to run the Comrades ever (maybe), never (perhaps), possibly (not planning it) and I laughed. Out loud. I remember those days. I remember when I thought, running a marathon is beyond my ability. I also remember the day I ran my first marathon, the day a tiny seed was planted in my head; somebody said: "If you can run this race, you can run the Comrades." I brushed it off and thought, not me (for sure, maybe). I shrugged politely and said, shew it's such a big commitment...