There was a time I took it for granted that there were just some things I would do on my own, and I thought I was okay with that.
It’s been intimated in other posts that I have always considered myself somewhat of a loner so when I started running I thought nothing of training by myself. As the running craze took off among my friends I started training and racing with others. I began to notice something interesting at the end of races – my fellow runners were being greeted by a partner/husband/wife/kids at the finish line. I thought this a nice gesture and the more I raced the more I realized that I didn’t have that, and I began to get jealous.
You see, running had become a big part of my life. I felt good after a run, I got sick less, I toned up and I looked for validation, support and encouragement in those around me. Because my significant other didn’t seem to understand the importance, and my kids were too young to, I had to look elsewhere. But somehow, no matter how many times your parents or family or close friends tell you how well you are doing, you still want to hear it from the one person who you considered your best friend and soul mate. But it just didn’t happen.
Time went on…running partners came and went but I just couldn’t stick with one because many times when running with others I often felt as if I was either pushing them too hard or holding them back even though we were probably on the same pace. I started to feel stressed when I ran with others and I knew that that wasn’t right. Why couldn’t I just let myself relax and just run? It stemmed back to wanting to fit in and never feeling like I completely did – to this day I battle that (but that’s another story;)).
None of this deterred or discouraged me from running. I just ran alone, or with my music. I compiled playlists that got me through some of my toughest runs. And races…I raced alone.
Then fate brought me back to a running partner from a few years back. We had run together for about 6 months before injuries caused each of us to adjust our schedules. When we reconnected we were both on the mend and unable (or unwilling) to rejoin a group again for fear of holding them back or pushing ourselves too much.
We started slowly – he gave me tips and pointers that helped me get stronger and run longer. We improved together. There was never any guilt when I ran with him and that felt so good. His patience guided me and eventually running together felt natural. I never had to think about pace, or holding him back because we were so well matched. We grew close, physically and emotionally. Then it came time for the first race of the season. He was at my side – encouraging me but more importantly believing in me like no one ever had.
At the finish line he was there – a smile and a hug and words that I had never heard from someone that close to me before. “I knew you could do it!” and “I’m so proud of you!” Something as small as that, that others in my circle had no doubt heard countless times, moved me nearly to tears.
I have to be honest and admit I am a fragile person at the core. I hurt very easily, although I may not show it and I tend to over analyze others’ actions sometimes to the point of driving myself to distraction. I’ll read into situations and gestures what was never meant to be read, and even though I shouldn’t, I do take many things personally. But this is one arena where I am finally beginning to feel comfortable. I have to work on the other, but like I said above, that’s for another blog.
