Running away from pain

My last post was about starting over, and in a way, so is this one.

Christmastime and New Year's focus so heavily on family and celebrations, at least in the U.S. (I think in some places, they're much more about partying -- but that's another story.) Yet there's another side to that coin. For many, the holidays seem to underscore our challenges, difficulties and loss. Faced with the prevalent images of the happy, perfect family with 2.3 kids, two cars in the garage and a golden turkey on the table, we're left to wonder why we don't fit that mold.

For those who are struggling with illness, either in themselves or in someone they love, it can be tough to maintain the holiday cheer. And for those coping with grief, it's a particularly difficult time.

Aside from turning to my faith, there's one thing I have actively done to deal with grief during the holidays this year. And that's running.

I'm not talking about a run done begrudgingly on a treadmill. Nope. Nothing but a run on the rocks, dirt and gravel of a trail will do. Despite feeling winded and stiff at first (see my previous post) I hit a rhythm and dodge boulder after boulder. It's like a game of Frogger as I tiptoe around a rock garden and avoid patches of deep slippery gravel. It's like this for miles.

When your brain is focusing on the here and now -- avoiding a fall and picking the fastest path in a split second -- you can't think about the loss that tears at you. You can't feel regret and fixate on emotional pain. It's just about you and the ground beneath you. You're in complete control in a world that can feel out of control; you determine when you start and when you finish. When you're finally done, you feel satisfied that you've taken a step toward healing and you've done something special for yourself that no one else can do.

The holidays may bring unique pain and heartache, as well as joy, to each of us. Shutting ourselves away is a natural way to cope...but if you're in this situation, maybe try a different approach for a while. Get outside amid the trees, in the mountains, on the sand or on the ocean. Take a deep breath and appreciate the beauty available to us completely free of charge.

Let's run!

Starting over

Every so often, something happens that makes you appreciate how hard it is for people to start exercising.

Yeah, I know, I'm a diehard runner, so what gives?

The last week of 2011 is a time of starting over, and it's a reminder that it takes a lot of discipline and willingness to accept initial discomfort to get beyond your fitness barrier. At least it's working out that way for me.

I went through several weeks in December in which my physician asked me not to run for medical reasons. I wasn't injured, he just wanted me to shift to non-impact activities. I hit the elliptical trainer and the exercise bike, and even entered the pool (once, ugh). After a few weeks of this, let me assure you: None of this makes you as fit as running does.

This week my medical situation changed, and I began running again. Wow, it was hard! On the first day, it was difficult to even finish up my third mile. My heart rate soared. I was lucky to run a pace of 9:30/mile, which used to be my very easy jogging pace. And it just felt uncomfortable. This coming from a person who used to feel at her very happiest while running 8:30/mile on her long runs! While pleased that I was finally running again, I was also balancing feelings of humiliation and frustration. Who is this slow woman toddling along the street and trails?

All of these things must be magnified for people who have no background in running or fitness at all. When they take that first step and start huffing and puffing, it's painful, embarrassing, annoying and potentially defeating. But if any of my non-exercising friends are reading this, please know that it's all part of the package. If you want to get to the good stuff -- feeling great about yourself and your health -- you've got to go through the tough stuff first.

Keep at it. I will.