How ‘I can’t run’ turned into ‘I think I want to run a 5k’ which resulted in a 13.2-mile trail race a mere 5 weeks later.
It wasn’t supposed to become a thing.
At the beginning of 2020, I listed out some core limiting beliefs that I had carried with me for years. I decided, that even if I couldn’t fully believe my ability to complete these activities, I would simply rephrase them to give me the possibility of success at some point in my life. And one of those limiting beliefs was: I’m not a runner.
Now, I had found plenty of evidence to back this observation. Anytime I tried to run in the past, I would end up with either shooting pain in my sides, or cramps that were so bad I couldn’t stand straight. So my natural conclusion was that I was simply not built to run. Which of course, is utter nonsense. But it had become my reality.
So I simply changed the statement ‘I’m not a runner’ to ‘I’m a human being therefore capable of running’. I never said I had to run. Never said I would. Just removed the idea that I couldn’t, and replaced it with a simple, actually scientific, fact.
Putting it on paper and effectively out of mind, I continued my efforts on healing my health. Over the months, as the issues began to resolve, through an overhaul and consistency in my diet, sleep, and exercise, I came back to revisit this seemingly small problem. I had removed the thought that was stopping me, but it still left the reality of the situation. And that wouldn’t change until I challenged it. But even if I limped along, surely I could work up to running a 5k. That was three miles. So, just around eleven months after I had written down this limiting belief, I contemplated it once more.
Do what scares you.
It wasn’t a decision made because I wanted to run. Or I wanted to lose more weight. It was simply coming head-to-head with a belief I had held onto for so long and genuinely testing its validity. And given the pandemic, it was an activity I could still do.
I decided to mention it casually to my younger sister and roommate, who included running in her workout routine. If I had a buddy, it would help keep me accountable.
“I think I want to run a 5k,”
“Sounds good.”
Her response was easy, but lacking the false air of certainty I had used when making the statement. Ok, cool. The first step would simply be to…well…run. I had a pair of workout shoes that I had been using for the past five years and were still solid when I was in the gym. They would do. The second thing I had to sort was where to run and for how long.
Instead of getting stuck in a ‘research phase’ which would be another form of procrastination, I simply decided to tag along with my sister when she ran. The decision was a spontaneous one. I had come back from my own workout on a Saturday morning, when she mentioned she needed the car to go to her favorite running spot, a few minutes away from the apartment. The weather was perfect and I asked if I could join her. She agreed.
“I’ll probably be walking for a portion of this,” I cautioned when she mentioned we would be running for around 40–50 minutes. I was letting her track the distance. I didn’t even ask. She looked over and simply responded;
“You can do more than you think you can.”
Shit. Well, I guess I’ll try not to walk.
We started running, and while my sister took off ahead of me, I maintained my pace. As the minutes ticked by, something crazy happened-or rather-didn’t happen. The cramps didn’t show up. The stabbing pain never made an appearance. And while this was the first time in a while I was running, my consistency at the gym for the past ten months had provided me with a strong core, and a knack for cardio which resulted in not needing to gasp for breath.
There were certainly moments when I wanted to stop. My legs weren’t used to this and the fatigue did show up. I wasn’t comfortable. So I told myself: You can stop after this song. And when the song ended and the next began, I repeated the phrase. Soon enough we had completed the run. My sister, having finished first, ran back and kept just a pace ahead of me, motivating me to finish strong.
That wasn’t so bad!
“I definitely think I can run three miles,” I stated with newfound confidence as we headed to the car.
“I know you can,” she responded, “we just ran three miles.”
I paused, shocked. I just ran three miles? Without stopping? Seriously? Looking back, it’s kind of obvious given the amount of time we were running, but I had put so little thought into it, it caught me by surprise.
I drove back rather pleased with myself.
What now?
A few days later, I found myself in a conundrum. My plan had been to train for a 5k. I thought it would take through the end of the year to do so. Having done this on my first run meant I no longer had a goal. Stating this out loud, my sister provided a solution that was presented without much thought.
“Simple. We run a marathon.” I guess that makes sense. After all, the only difference between running a 5k and running a marathon was just more running. Suddenly, the barrier I had found myself against all these years was no longer there. A marathon didn’t seem too bad. It just meant I would need to incorporate running into my workout routine.
Once again following my sister’s lead, I found myself on short runs throughout the week and a longer run on the weekends. Bored with city running, we found a mountain that contained a handful of trails, and two weeks after that initial 5k, I fell in love with trail running. No workout kept me quite in the moment the way trail running did; after all, if you weren’t aware of yourself right then and there, you’d be eating a face full of dirt.
I mentioned my new favorite running spot to one of the trainers at my gym, who mentioned there was an upcoming half-marathon race taking place at that exact trail. It was a couple of weeks away, and although we hadn’t run more than 8 miles, I wasn’t concerned. This would be a good halfway mark towards our expedited marathon run, which we had decided we would run on New Year’s Eve.
Still stumbling through this sport, my sister and I decided to run 13.2 miles the week before the actual race. I’m not too sure the reasoning behind this, we were simply relying on gut instinct. It wasn’t easy. And towards the end, my legs were really hurting, but aside from a quick bathroom stop and one more pause to sip on water, we ran the whole thing. We could do this race.
The day of the race, I decided I had two goals in mind: aside from the rocky steep ascents and descents that were dangerous for me to run (since I didn’t have practice running on this terrain, and I had road running shoes on) I wasn’t going to walk. The second goal: not to finish last.
I’ll expand more about the actual race in another post, but what I will say is that I did complete both of my goals. I came in second in my age group for women, and nowhere near last place. I wasn’t terribly fast, but I didn’t walk. After years of believing running wasn’t in me, I was not only running but totally hooked. The nervousness of setting off to run a longer distance, the negotiations I have with myself when I ‘want to slow down just for a moment’, the exhilaration of having completed the run, it’s highly addicting.
There are lots I’m not doing right — from form to training practices, to nutrition, and things I’m sure I haven’t thought about, and I’m already in the process of rectifying this. But having overcome the particular barrier of smashing past a limiting belief has been incredibly empowering. Not only that, it opened the door for a new relationship. Or obsession, deciding on who you ask. And the best part? I’ve only gotten started.
