The Incomplete Book of Running by Peter Sagal

The Incomplete Book of Running by Peter Sagal

Author:Peter Sagal
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster


Six

Sometimes running sucks.

This is not something most runners talk about in public, though it is something runners talk to one another about all the time, usually during another, different run, to pass the time pleasantly so this run won’t suck as much as the one they’re talking about. No evangelical warns converts about boring sermons; no Mormon missionary loosens his narrow black tie and says, “Truth be told, there are days I would murder someone for a cup of coffee.” We’re trying to persuade you to buy into a lifestyle, and the secret to sales is to let the customer discover the defects in your product on her own, once it’s too late.

But I wasn’t cut out to be a salesman. I am terrible at being cheerful, and at denying obvious flaws. I am a bipedal Eeyore. Were I unfortunate enough to have ended up selling cars for a living, every American would be reaching every destination on foot, and this book would be unnecessary.

So let me be honest: sometimes there is no “runner’s high,” no being one with the environment, no fellowship with fellow fellows, no leisurely loping through the lea. Sometimes there are aches and pains and headaches and light-headedness, sometimes your feet hurt, and sometimes your feet are the only things that don’t hurt. Many, many people tell me that they tried running once and hated it. And I say, “Well, give it a little more time,” and then they do and come back and say, “Now I hate it for a longer period of time.”

In my running career I have aggravated my piriformis nerve and ended up spending six weeks with a physical therapist. I have slipped on a sheet of ice and landed so hard on my back I saw stars on a clear winter day. I’ve twisted ankles, pulled muscles in my hips, back, and somehow even my neck. During the New York City Marathon in 2009, my calves were cramping so badly during the last five miles that I made a deal with myself: I would keep running until I actually screamed, and only then would I take a break, which turned out to be, on average, once every quarter mile. Earlier the same year, after qualifying to run the Boston Marathon (again) and training up to run it, I was also coaching my daughter’s T-ball team. One day during practice I turned to point out the location of third base (these little girls were unclear on the concept) and felt what I thought was a softball ricocheting off my lower leg, resulting in an audible “pop.” I turned around and looked to see who had thrown the ball. There was no ball. I had ruptured a tendon. Instead of going to Boston, I went back to the physical therapist, who greeted me with a warm smile. She had missed me.

As I aggressively trained to be a serious runner, for the roughly five years that began with my training for the 2006 Chicago Marathon, I decided that I must embrace the pain.



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