Friday, January 11, 2013

No one cares about your run

Did you know that I ran 10 miles last weekend?

Did you know that I ran 10 miles along a bike path in Huntington Beach and that the sun was shining but it was nice and cool and breezy and at some point I ate a strawberry banana Gu and I thought I wasn't gonna be able to run the entire 10 miles because I was sick all last week and my most recent run was crap but I did it anyway and it felt amazing and I feel so strong and how could you not care about this?!

I caught a cold during our trip back to Massachusetts for Christmas—a trip that included a snowstorm and a Nor'easter in the span of seven days—and so, despite good intentions, I ran only once. Upon returning to California, I ran on New Year's Day like a good doobie. That run was dreadful. Then, three days before our scheduled 10-miler, I woke up feeling like death reheated in the microwave. But on Sunday morning, against all odds, I laced up a pair of overpriced Adidas running shoes and ran five miles in one direction, turned around, and ran back. I did it in less than 90 minutes, which is an 8:50/mile pace or thereabouts.

I felt so good about this admittedly arbitrary accomplishment that I wanted to shout it from the rooftops i.e., update Facebook. Then eat and take a nap and bask in the glory of my beautiful sub-9:00/mile.

Except that, if I've learned anything during my time as a runner, I've learned that non-runners just don't care about your running. I didn't always realize this. You know, because I ran 10 miles last weekend! And I didn't think I could! But I did! And so on. But I think of all the times I've listened to someone go on (and on) about something I'm not particularly interested in, and I'm chastened.

Runners, rejoice in your accomplishments. Just don't expect the world to rejoice with you. And, please, stop posting photos of your black toenails.