Dear Running,

I wasn’t looking for you; it just happened.

I had wanted to try out for the basketball team, or to be a cheerleader; however to both, my parents said, “No.” It wasn’t until my older brother got his driver’s license and joined the track team, that Mom and Dad said I could try out for track, too.

From the moment I first met you, I knew we’d be friends forever. You showed me how to let my worries disappear when we were together. You taught me how good it could feel to have the wind blow through my hair, and to push myself until my clothes were drenched with sweat. You made me strong and confident – both excellent traits for a high school girl. You were ready to take me out to distract me when a boy broke my heart, and you were thrilled to help me celebrate when good things happened.

After our steady relationship in high school, we broke up for a little while in college until the dining hall desserts and late-night popcorn brought us back together. You helped me fight off the freshman fifteen, and you didn’t complain when I found a new sport and spent hours on the tennis courts. Instead, you made it possible for me to last longer on the courts than the more experienced players, and helped me make up for my lack of skill with exceptional endurance.

After college, our relationship grew as we ran longer miles together, always alone, just the two of us. We explored the new town we’d moved to, and we even joined in on a few local road races. We weren’t slow, but we weren’t particularly fast either. We were just right for each other.

Our relationship continued to blossom as you helped me fit into my wedding dress, you moved across the country with me and my new husband, and you hardly complained when the higher altitude temporarily took our breath away.

You didn’t like spending time on the trail with my new husband, though. He wanted to go short and fast, and we wanted to go long and slow. It took us over fifteen years to get him to come around to our way of thinking, but we did it, and then it became the three of us.

We really put our friendship to test when we decided to take up marathons. We’d spend three hours together most Saturdays on the trail, and you never complained. I always suspected that you looked forward to our special time together as much as my husband and I did.

Together the three of us covered more miles than I can count, and my best estimate has us somewhere around 30,000 miles since our first marathon together all those years ago. We’ve spent hours on the W&OD Trail, the tree covered trails behind our house, and along a wide assortment of parkways. We’ve even covered many miles together on the Appalachian Trail – a whole new adventure for us.

We’ve watched sunrises and sunsets, we’ve made our way through rain, mud, snow, and crunchy fall leaves. We’ve tripped on rocks, over roots, and even slipped on icy patches, but we never let any of that keep us from doing what we love.

Running, you’ve brought me so many friends over the years – from my original BRF’s, to the Cruisers, to my MRTT friends. You never complained that it was no longer just our special thing, and always embraced new friends I brought your way.

We even ventured out on a career together where we helped other people find the love we’ve shared. You joined me in coaching newbie runners across their first marathon finish line, and experienced runners to get faster. We’ve traveled together for races, and I’ve traveled to cities that I otherwise wouldn’t have, had I not met you.

In recent years when aches and pains started trying to break us up, we wouldn’t let them. They’re jealous of our long-term love for each other, and no mater how hard they try to put a wedge between us, we’ll fight them off.

Yes, it was a serendipitous moment when we met. We both found something wonderful when we weren’t even looking for it; and now we’re both in it for the long haul. We may not spend as much time together as in the past, but we still find time for each other. It’s true, I wasn’t looking for you, but I’m sure glad we found each other.

Always and forever,
Deb xoxo 

P.S. When you see me leave on my bike, I’m not two-timing you, I’m trying to keep my body healthy enough so that you and I can continue our love affair forever…

 

Questions:
  • • What serendipitous moment changed your life?
  • • If you run, how many years has it been since you first started running?
  • • If you were to write a love letter to your favorite activity, what would it be?