Running For All the Wrong Reasons

In my personality, I believe that everything happens for a reason. It's the optimistic side of me. I've had many failures in life that have taught me lessons and some I still don't know why they turned out the way they did, but I stayed optimistic. This was not the case with my most recent injury and fatigue. I felt skeptical and frustrated with life and, more importantly, frustrated with God. I couldn't comprehend why God would take away my greatest passion in life. Now, things lead me to belief that I had more to gain by this fall and I definitely came through for the better.

When I started running, I did it more recreationally and had a lot of fun with the social aspect of XC. I was good for the team, being the number 2 man, but it's all relative to the team you are on, which happened to be one of the worst teams in the state. At this time, running hardly consumed my life. A part of me wishes that I started my freshman year and got more competitive earlier, but, as my personality does, I reminded myself that everything happens for a reason.

So, summer before junior year rolls around and I jump from running 20 miles a week to 40+ a week, and yielded great results... for a little while. I had developed a great passion for running and was determined to be the best. I went into the season with the goal of being right behind my teammate (the defending district champ). I did everything I could to achieve my goal. I ran my workouts really well and was really strong, did a lot of core work in my spare time, spent a long time stretching, and was really concerned with having a proper diet. I ran way too hard during the summer, preparing myself to be the best runner in the district. I set PRs in open summer races, was nailing workouts, and finally earned some peoples' respect. I went into the second race of the season and PRed by a little over a minute for a 5k. I was ecstatic, and it put my in the top-10 in my district. That was the highest (or lowest I guess) that I ever got. I didn't run that fast again, and still haven't. I ran a few seconds slower the next week and from then on I never was close. I pushed myself to be a champion over night. I ran really hard every day of the summer and expected to see results right away. Running, and the obsessive lifestyle that came along with it, became an addiction. I was running for all the wrong reasons: the accolades and the times instead of the pure enjoyment of worshipping God for the ability he has given me. Don't get me wrong, to be a competitive distance runner, or anything for that matter, you have to go for times and the accolades if you want to run well, but my situation was different. My happiness depended on the times I was running and the places I was finishing. This called for times of depression, but nothing major. I had set the goal to be right behind my district champion teammate and qualify for state. Things didn't play out like I had hoped; I had finished a mere 19th, 9 or 10 spots from qualifying. And I finished 3rd on the team. I remember walking away from everyone, purposefully alienating myself from everyone because I was so frustrated and depressed with myself.

Winter came, and I still hadn't learned my lesson, because I was still running for myself and not praising God for this amazing gift he has given me. I came down with something wrong with my ankle. Maybe a strained ligament.. the doctors never figured it out. With some physical therapy and time to rest, it finally went away... only after I came down with tendonitis in my foot--a runner's worst nightmare. I was confined only to biking and was cleared to run probably about a month before track started. I was still shallow and continued to run selfishly. Things went mediocrely, and by the time mid-track season came around, I strain my hamstring. And here I am. Still recovering from this hamstring snafu.

It's so easy to fall into the trap of running for myself and having shallow motivations. During Spring Break, while on a run in Auburn, California along a beautiful trail along side the brink of a "river" I had the most intimate time with God that I've ever experienced. Basically, I just talked to him and prayed to him for the whole 3 miles or so, and honestly, the run felt so euphoric and effortless that I started to cry while shivers escalated through my body. All I could do was thank him for the beautiful gift of life. However, back to my normal life routine, including school and regular (competitive) track practices, I quickly fell back into that trap, leading to nothing good.

God has given me many reasons to give running up and many times I've questioned what I was doing, or what I was doing wrong, and whether that running was the right thing for me. A good friend told me today, and I wish I could remember it exactly (it was probably much more eloquent than what I'll say), "We shouldn't ever have to worry, because if we put all our faith and trust in God, everything will work out for the best." I believe that to be 100% true.

So here I stand, beat-up and defeated, but more faithful and wiser. I have fallen, but more importantly, I have gotten back up and I will never give up on running.



P.S. Here is a video from my greatest role model, Olympic marathoner Ryan Hall, and is one of the videos I turn to when I need to refresh myself who I am truly running for.