As I shuffle
through a long run of four miles I can’t help but think about why I continue
the cycle. It’s mentally, physically and emotionally trying every time, so
there has to be a reason. Why do I continue to suffer through the pain and
rehab of a torn hamstring caused by running only so I can get back to running?
To most people it wouldn’t make sense, in fact when I myself look at the facts,
it doesn’t make sense. But I continue to do it. I continue to push myself as
hard as I can until I break, only to do it all over again – so through the
incredibly long 34 minute run, I sought to figure out why.
I’ve spent the
latter part of my life identifying a big piece of who I am as a runner. I ran
semi-professionally in Eugene, Oregon for eight years with two incredible
world-class coaches and girls that will carry my secrets forever. Track town,
USA is the best place to be as a runner: best atmosphere, best trails, best
track, best runners; but it is also the worst. If you’re not the best of the
best, that elite athlete that will make it to the Olympics, or if you’re not a
top Oregon Duck, it’s hard to find your place. You get stuck in that awkward
grey zone where your local high school and middle school accomplishments are
the only thing people can remember about you. And that’s where I stood. I had a
hard time breaking through whatever wall it was I needed to break through to
get to the other side. And that wall beat me down.
After the eight
years with my team and 27 years in Eugene, I needed a break from running and a
fresh start. I packed up my car and drove across the country to Massachusetts.
During this time, I stopped running with a competitive goal in mind and only
ran when I wanted to. If I woke up in the morning and didn’t want to run, I
didn’t. It was simple and healthy.
Eventually, I
found a team to run for that competed in the New England Grand Prix series
every year and every year put up impressive results across the board. Practices
with them became something I looked forward to again, not something I dread. I
met people that, although very talented, I knew I was going to be friends with
forever. Running had a different feel this time.
Myself and two
other ladies on my new team drove to Rhode Island in October of 2014 for a 5K,
and at this 5K I got my ass handed to me. I raced like I had been training,
half-assed but with a smile across my face. And it was at that moment I knew I
wanted more again. I just needed that journey to remember who I was as a runner
and not who other people wanted me to be. Now I had the opportunity to approach
running with a new vision and purpose: for me.
Over the past few
years I have slowly gotten behind the concept of the marathon. One of those
races that you have to have a bit of insanity to even conceptualize going
after. And soon after my kick-in-the-pants 5K, I found out that the Grand Prix
included a marathon in May. It was go time. This was as good of time as any to
finally see if my strengths lay in longer distances like my coaches back home
always believed.
Training began
and I was back in love with running. I craved to get on the trails every day or
to run beside the ocean. But with every training cycle comes its glitches. I
had a couple minor hiccups with tight muscles and a major hiccup in the tune of
one million feet of snow (give or take a couple inches), but nothing a good
cross training workout or treadmill run couldn’t fix. I started getting back in
the weight room to make sure my ex-stress fractured hip didn’t come back, I
even stretched every now and then, and I also created marathon finishing goals.
I had three goals
in mind: the first was to finish the race, but finish in a way where I knew the
journey leading up to toeing that line made me happy. If I didn’t feel like I
was enjoying myself to get there, I didn’t want to be there. The second goal
was to achieve the Boston Qualifying standard. From what I knew, that shouldn’t
be too hard to do. But also from what I knew, you don’t know anything about the
marathon until you do it. And the last and most ballsy goal was to debut under
three hours. I was ready for the challenge.
Long story short,
the marathon came and went without me. I suffered a partially torn hamstring
during a half marathon a couple months before the big dance. I didn’t know it
was that bad during the race, so I continued to finish and ran faster than I
ever expected. It was on pace for everything I wanted to accomplish for the
marathon. To say I was excited about the results doesn’t even begin to capture
the moments after that half marathon. I was elated but so oblivious to the idea
that something major could actually be wrong with my leg. But then, I went to
run the next day and couldn’t. And then I tried again after that and couldn’t.
And here I am four months later, marathon came and gone, and I’m finally able
to put together a four mile run with little to no pain. It’s not 26.2 miles by
any means, but I’m pretty damn proud of it.
So, this brings
me full circle to the point of why I decided to tell this story. Through all
the pain, suffering, fractured bones and torn muscles I’ve endured over the
past years, why do I keep fighting to come back? Clearly, there’s a reason. But
sometimes when you’re beaten against a wall over and over again, it’s hard to
remember that there is. But that’s what community is for. So, I reached out to
people I completely admire and respect and asked them for their reasons, for
their passion behind an exhausting sport; I asked them “why do you run?” And
the beauty you’ll see in their answers is that it has a resounding similarity
of something that’s rooted so deep in a person’s heart and soul. It’s not a
surface level commitment to the sport, it’s an emotional attachment that gets
us out the door and onto the roads, it’s a relationship with our running shoes
that taught us who we are and continue to be. It’s inspiring. These are their
stories:
Question: “WHY DO
YOU RUN?”
“Hope. What if.
That’s usually what I think to myself when I’m daydreaming of track. But once
I’m back to being able to actually just run, it’s the joy of having alone time
to reflect and get in a zone. I haven’t found anything else that enables me to
get into a rhythm mentally and physically like I can with running.
Running/training is a tangible way to see progress in life, when most other
things are more vague and take longer to see results from. Plus all the amazing
memories associated with it. And the running community, that’s one of the
biggest things.”
-Casey Masterson,
Oregon State Alum, big reason I still run today & can out aqua jog you
“I run because
right now I’m able to, and one day I’ll likely have difficultly walking and
moving around, so I want to know I made the most of what I could. I will only
be able to be content if I know that I’m spending my prime years pushing my
body to its limits and really going for broke in every aspect of my life,
including running. I run because I feel like it separates me from the rest of
population and gives me a reason to live a life that I want to live.”
-Christopher
Mulverhill, Oregon Duck steeplechaser, spike ball runner-up
“I like to say I
run because it’s tattooed on my heart. Which basically means that it’s a
permanent part of me that I one time knowingly put there, I put it in my life,
but now I’m stuck with it forever. I don’t know that I could ever stop. It’s a
parallel narrative in my life to all the other stuff that’s going on. I’ve been
running for 20 years; I’ve run as an adolescent, a young adult, a single
person, a married person; I’ve lived in different places, it took me through
college and yet it’s always just one foot in front of the other on a trail,
through trees, on the roads. It has it’s own story line with it’s own ups and
downs. I love that story.”
-Lauren Fleshman,
Oiselle Pro runner, Badass, 7th at World Championships in 2011
“I run because it
serves as a time, place and medium through which God responds to my questions,
fears, desires and cravings to know the truth. Running is a spiritual
experience for me. I remember my mom telling me that all I needed to do if I
wanted to enter into the Christian faith was to ask Jesus into my heart. I was
running when I was finally able to make this request and humble myself before
God. In this way, running is the beginning. It was God’s door. But the ensuing
physical, mental and spiritual trials in running have transformed it into an
enduring part of my human identity. Running is like an old friend who loves and
hurts. The relationship evolves year by year.
I run because it
both sparks and fulfills my imagination: while running, I dream of running
faster, of winning races I shouldn’t win and of covering more ground than I am
capable of. Yet the simplicity of running leaves me content, as the joy of good
health, sweat, dirt and an acute sensory experience prove that I’m alive. I
like to know a few places well, but I am also thrilled by novelty.”
-Jackson Darland,
Oregon Duck, world traveler, adventure enthusiast
“Over the past
couple of years I have learned a lot about this issue. For most of this time I
have been spiraling downward. Guys that I used to beat handily are now
uncatchable. Times that used to be an easy workout pace, are now unreachable
race goals. But more importantly, the feelings of invincibility were dwindling.
The euphoria and other lesser feelings of good health and good fitness were no
longer part of my runs. Instead of starting out a run with the thought of
gradually picking up the pace, I would go out hoping for that, but knowing that
there was a wall somewhere along the course. Other runners were actually
feeling pity for me.
I was seriously
at the point a couple weeks ago that I was no longer enjoying running at all.
Every day I would drag myself out of bed with new optimism and everyday my
hopes would be shattered by another bad run. Someone who never sleeps through
his alarm clock started hitting "off" instead of "snooze."
Now that I have
become a doper [necessary thyroid medication], and have started running better
(not good yet, but better), the enjoyment of running is returning. I am not
going to break 4 minutes again, at least not for a mile (T-bone assured me of
this fact this very morning), but I am still going to have fun. It is ridiculously
awesome to be out for a fast(ish) ten mile run and all the time talking,
telling stories, listening to stories, and laughing. The competition, even if
it is just internal (“I am not going to stop and walk”) is exhilarating. To
will your body to push the limits and have it respond with something, anything,
can be very satisfying.”
-Ed
Spinney, father of yours truly, Athletics West Alum, Olympic trials in’80
and ‘84
“I run because it
gives me a sense of purpose and confidence that I don’t get from anything else
in my day-to-day life. It feels like my own little secret; when I encounter a
challenge or a difficult situation in another part of my life, it’s like I have
a little flame inside me that reminds me that I can push through anything. I
feel at peace when I reflect on all of the work I have put into running, and
yet it drives me to always strive for more. Running satisfies me and keeps me
hungry at the same time, and anything that does that is something I want to
hold on to.”
-Kelsi Klotter,
GCU recorder holder indoor 3k, 5k, DMR and outdoor 5k/10k (yeah, ok)
“Why do I run? In
short, why not?
When I thought
long and hard about my answer for this, the most fundamental reason I could
come up with is this: running is the scaffold on which I build my lifestyle.
The more I think about it, the more I realize that every aspect of what makes
me healthy, physically, emotionally, and mentally, ties back to the choices I
make for running. As I think about my life, I think of how running makes me the
best version of Maggie that I can be.
I know there are
other things in life that could probably accomplish the same goals. I could
probably find structure in swimming or biking or something else, and I’m sure
there’s an excellent community of rock climbers and kayakers and everything
else. But there is something about running that I can’t replace. Something
about running just feels right to me, like it’s meant to be. I think if God
hadn’t wanted us to be runners, He wouldn’t have made us love it so much. There
must be some benefit then, or He wouldn’t have let us get hooked. There is
something so sacred about having nothing but your body, your lungs, your feet,
your heart and blood vessels, and maybe a good pair of shoes, out on some trail
or some road, tuning back in to that which makes us human. I run because it’s a
beautiful thing to bring your body to new places, and to push it to new limits.
I can’t imagine my life without running. It might not always look the way it
does now, but I always want to be a part of this community, and keep taking
hits from the runner’s high. That’s a beautiful thing.”
-Maggie Schmaedick,
Duck, 3rd fastest Oregon high school prep in 3000m ever, does a mean
TSwift rap
“1) Because I
like how it feels to be fit and active. 2) I feel empowered as a person in all
aspects of my life when I get a new PR or win a race. 3) It has done so much
good for me. It kept me out of trouble when I was young. I never drank too much
because I wanted to run better, it got me into a good school and it has kept me
healthy. I always tell myself that if I haven’t peaked in running, I can’t be
mad because it has taken me so far in life and in the country. And 4) To see
how high up my ceiling actually is.”
-Chrissy Supino, Dartmouth grad,
ass-kicker in said 5K, and team SOS
“At first I
started running as a result of a dare or challenge from Bex, then I continued
to run simply to be better at it, since I’m pretty (read: extremely)
competitive. The fact that Bex beat me in a 5k ate at me. I felt the drive to
continue to be better, push myself and run longer and harder.
Over the last 4
years, though I have definitely realized that a common theme that I’ve
experienced while running is that it really just allows me to decompress,
unwind and sincerely enjoy my time. In all of the insanity of day-to-day life,
the few hours each week where I can hit either the road or more recently the
trails in the Woods, really puts my mind at east. Sure, I feel the runners high
at times and definitely love the sense of accomplishment after crushing a new
route, distance or setting a new PR, but it really all comes down to my ability
to be out there while sorting through stuff and cruise. I crave my early
morning runs. Running along the beach as the sun comes up is magical. There are
some mornings where I stop and let myself just look at the sky and landscape
and marvel at what God can create in one nanosecond. For me, it’s my time to
reflect and work stuff out. It’s just me and the open trail…and my Tasha, of
course.
The “short”
answer is: I need to.”
-Chris Abbott,
running newbie, king of the Lynn Woods and champion of Kan Jam
“It’s the
quickest way I know how to cope. If running was taken away, I fear I wouldn’t
know how to cope. Also, the fear of not running; fear of letting people down,
fear of being out of shape and fear of being perceived different.”
-Alyssa Hamel,
Teammate, Boston Qualifier
“I thought a lot
about this the past few years as I decided whether or not I wanted to continue
down this path after I had accomplished my Olympic goal. I believe that God
gives us our talents and our experiences for a reason. Ultimately, my life goal
is to make the biggest positive impact on others as I can. The easiest way to
do that is to pursue something where you stand out and can be noticed. I
thought about what else would make me happy if I wasn’t going to run. Some
ideas I had were to be a park-ranger or to pursue a career in sustainable
business. In both of these paths I could feel like I was making a small difference
in the world but when I compared it to how many people were interested in
talking to me about my experience in London, it was clear. Running gives me a
platform that I would struggle to achieve in any other arena.
The second reason
why I run is because I have not found anything else in life that motivates me
to explore the absolute depths of who I am as a person. Mentally, physically,
and emotionally, I am tested every single day. This is an amazing thing that
many people go through their entire life not thinking about. When I finally
give up competitive running, I am very confident that I will know myself on
levels beyond what 99.9% of people could never say. Think about how many people
go to their desk job every day, go through the motions, and leave. Their
boss may occasionally ask them to put a little more effort into a project here
or there but ultimately, being mediocre will get them through a career. Because
they are not pushed, they do not dig deep and will never know what their limits
are and what it feels like to truly test them selves. In running, the highs are
high and the lows are so low but I feel so blessed that I have had a reason to
push those boundaries.”
-Bridget Franek,
2012 Steeplechase Olympic Finalist
“Running sets me
free in a world I often feel bound to. I get the opportunity every day to go
explore a world that was created in God’s eyes. I get to go places car tires
will never touch, where the only sounds are the rushing of a river and my
footfall against the bark; I get to see the sun set over the ocean in my most
vulnerable state. It’s in these moments that I’m changed, it’s in these moments
I am free.
Running also
continues to teach me I’m more capable than the limits I, and others, continue
to place on me. It’s a personal challenge to be better than I was before. When
I break through one wall, I realize I could do it again. And when I hit a
perfect stride in a race or a training run, I feel invincible and it gives me
strength to aim for that perfection in every day life. But ultimately I know
the journey to get through each wall and each stride will result in way more
happiness than any outcome.”
-Heather
Spinney, middle school 1500m record holder and Sheldon High stand out…
