Solitary Liberation 2/2/10

I covered nine miles today, by myself, as I almost always do. A friend at work told me the other day that she thought it was amazing I ran so many solitary miles. It doesn't seem at all extraordinary to me, of course, because that is just how I do it.

As a practical matter, it would be pretty hard to have a running partner who has the same schedule I do: Out the door before dawn some days, closer to noon on others. And it takes me a while to get going, as I've mentioned before, and I wouldn't want the pressure of having other people waiting on me to finish all my little rituals.

Running partners do, however, make you "accountable." They provide motivation to get out on bad-weather days, or mornings when you're just too tired, and don't want to exhaust yourself further. Motivation isn't really a problem for me. Yeah, there are those days when all I want is coffee and the morning paper. But all I have to think of is the 200-lb version of me who gave in too many times to those messages of desired comfort. Even a bad run, and there aren't many, is better than not running.

My course today took me down a three-block stretch of tall, birch trees on both sides of the road. The bark is dark at the lower levels, but it peels off as your eyes go higher, giving the trees a snow-topped appearance. Their formation reminds me of the flying buttresses at Notre Dame in Paris, meant to lift the viewer's eyes and soul heavenward. It is a reminiscence I might not have, were I chatting with a fellow runner about school tax levies, or the Chiefs.

I don't feel myself superior to those who prefer, or need, to run with others. If they are running at all, they are doing their minds and bodies a tremendous favor, and it doesn't matter how they got there. I also believe that those who are interested in improving some aspect of their running, like speed, or endurance, benefit from having partners who can push them beyond their former limits. It was true for me in the days when I did more group running. I had all my PRs during that time.

Now, I have only myself to answer to, and I am an honest critic. I chide myself for relaxing when I should have pushed, and pointlessly exhausting myself when an easy jog around the block would have sufficed. When I start speedwork again this Spring, I will run every lap around the track as if a little old man with a stopwatch were standing in the infield, exhorting me to lift my knees; keep my back straight; do one more. Faster!

There is no loneliness for this long-distance runner.

Thanks for reading.