I realize that welcoming the New Year with an hour-long run sounds far from fun for most people. For me, it's about as peaceful and strong of a start to 2021 as I could ask for.
"But Sam," you say, "This space exists to explore and expand your connections to others. Why are you writing about binge watching The Repair Shop alone on the treadmill?"
I'm writing about running because I never expected an individual sport to welcome me into such an uplifting community for which I am forever grateful.
I played on my varsity tennis "team" in high school. Twelve of us competed against each other frequently for nine tournament slots. Playing doubles rather than singles in a tournament was a punishment--an attitude that kept us from ever playing doubles as true partnerships. The moment I knew we weren't actually a team happened when #8 me defeated our #2 player in a challenge match. She felt off that day, but also I played my heart out. After the match, she was still #2 and I was still #8. Our coach berated her for playing terribly, and never said anything about my strong performance. Neither of us deserved our treatment, and we both left practice too upset to say anything.
After training for my first 10K race on my own in 2018, I joined USA Fit Albuquerque seeking coaching for a half-marathon. I attended my first group run with my tennis experience in my back pocket. Fortunately I abandoned that definition of a team somewhere around mile 2 of the Bosque trail. USA Fit Albuquerque has over 100 members, from people who have not yet run a mile without walking to Boston Marathon qualifiers. The club does an incredible job of making everyone feel like their personal goals are valuable and achievable. They joke about being a social club with a running problem, except I wouldn't call the running a problem! They understand that the point is the community they build through their sport, not the activity itself. We aren't elite athletes; the only people we are competing against on the racecourse are ourselves. Everyone else is a teammate.
When my pace coach says, "I know your legs are burning, but you can finish strong," I believe her. When we get brunch after a long run, no one judges me for going out with my flushed face and sweat-drenched shirt (because we're all that gross, together. Thank you to the servers and the patrons around us for tolerating our post-run state!). When my teammates who finished before me wait at the finish line to cheer me across, I sprint like I haven't just run 13 miles. And I stay to cheer on the rest of the finishers. Say what you will about social media, but I've been thankful to connect with my team via the Strava app during the pandemic. We aren't able to safely run as a club, but we can still cheer each other on virtually. We provide each other accountability without pressure.
I've never made friends easily, and I've treated relationships as self-serving more often than I like to admit. Joining a running club introduced me to a different but meaningful type of friendship. Runners are a diverse group, but the joy we derive from our sport unites us. I'm not extremely close to anyone in the group (yet?), but the time I spend with my running friends nourishes me, as I believe it does for them also. I used to believe a friend was someone I could talk to when I had a problem. That's what a good therapist is for. A friend is someone I can listen to with my full attention. 1-2 hours on the trail each Saturday morning provides a great opportunity to practice your listening skills. A friend will listen to you, too, but they shouldn't feel obligated to have any answers--only love.
You don't have to run, but I do encourage you, if you don't already have one, to find a community for an activity you enjoy. maybe even try something new. You may find yourself surprised and forever changed by the experience.
No comments:
Post a Comment