"Start where you are." — Running the Middle

“Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can.” - Arthur Ashe

We all start somewhere. It often takes courage to start, no matter what it is you’re starting. Okay, maybe not a game of Uno or a slice of pizza, but you know what I mean.

I put in about 20 miles with a trail friend today. It’s been two weeks since doing that mountainy 50-mile race up in Virginia where this Florida-girl came in dead last. As we were running this morning, it popped into my mind that it was remarkable that I could “just” go for a 20-mile run. Sometimes my conversations with non-runners goes like this:

Non-running friend: “So, what are you doing this weekend?”

Me: “Probably go for a run, maybe some chores around the house.”

Non-running friend: “Cool. You doing a 5k or something like that?”

Me: “Nah, you know, probably just a 24-mile run. In the woods. On Saturday. And maybe something short, like, 8 or 10 or so on Sunday.”

Non-running friend: “What on earth is wrong with you?!?”

When I started running as an adult, I could barely make it a mile. Of course, when I was 12, I could barely make it a mile as well but that’s a story for another time… Either way, when I started, running was hard. I couldn’t get a full mile without stopping to walk.

Over time, I made it up to two miles, then three, but it was so laborious. It seemed like my progress was painstakingly slow. Things that might have been faster than my progress: growing my hair, learning a second language, or the gestational period of a moose. The only goal I had was to complete the super-sprint triathlon a friend convinced me I could do. This particular event was a 2-mile run after a 7-mile bike and maybe a quarter-mile swim. I “trained” with a group of people, and a coach, who were real nice, supportive, the whole bit, but that didn’t exactly make it easier. My son was little at that time (maybe only one or two years old), and I often had to push him in the jogging stroller during training sessions. Everyone else on the “team” enjoyed the biking and the swimming. I was the outlier who liked running the best. My old, heavy mountain bike (that had never seen a mountain) made my rear hurt and the swimming, well, coordinating all my limbs to do a task simultaneously is NOT my forte. One foot and then the other, kinda like walking? I’ve so got this.

I remember the first time I hit 3 miles in training. It was an early-evening session and the sun was on its way down. I can’t remember exactly where we were, but it was on a paved trail with a road on one side and a large, empty, fenced-in field on the other. The weather was quite warm, and the team was spread out over the trail all kind of running at their own pace off and on. Each was aiming for a different distance. I think we were doing short laps or loops so we would pass each other over and over. At some point, I hit three miles but this time I didn’t feel tired. I remember thinking, “I did it. I feel like I can do more!” I ran another half mile before calling the day finished. The stars had aligned and the angels sang.

I went on to complete the triathlon, but never did another one. Over the next 6-7 years, I dabbled in gyms on my own, tried working with personal trainers, tried a class or two, and ran a few miles now and then. I’ve never been a slave to the scale, but I knew that I should do something, anything, for exercise. I liked to run, even if I was slower than what I perceived at the time to be an acceptable pace. Lots of other people I encountered didn’t like running, and they liked to tell me all about it, too. I heard how it was boring, how it was bad for your knees, how it wasn’t a real sport, how they “used to run”, or how it just wasn’t their “thing”. I thought it must be weird to actually like to run so I tried to do all the other things the cool kids were doing instead.

At some point, I started increasing my running distance and eventually got up to 6 miles. A neighbor at the time told me she thought I could do a half-marathon since I’d gotten up to 6 and that if I wanted to sign up for one then she’d do it with me. She said she’d done a few before and felt sure I could too. I signed up and kept training. She didn’t. I went on to complete my first half by myself and have been running consistently since, slowly increasing mileage and trying things that get me out of my comfort zone.

I went out for 20 miles today because it’s what I’m capable of now, but it hasn’t always been that way. I started this journey somewhere far different. I didn’t start with intentions of running a half-marathon or marathon or ultra. I just wanted to run two miles. I just wanted some friends because I was a relatively new mom who needed some people to talk to that were more interesting than my toddler. I just liked to run, even if I wasn’t what most might consider ‘good’ at doing it. There have been tough running days, easy running days, discouraging running days, fulfilling running days and all kinds of other running days along the way. There are times I’ve felt as though I’ve done well, and times I felt like I was a complete disaster.

But I started.

I didn’t wait to be a certain dress size to start running. I didn’t wait until my kids were grown to do a longer race. I didn’t wait to try an ultra-distance until I thought I had enough time, or had the right shoes, or had the right ‘plan’ to start. You just have to start where you are. I absolutely didn’t train enough hills and climbing before that Belmonte 50-miler in Virginia although I had plenty of intention to do so. If I had trained more, I might not have been the last to finish. I could have bailed and skipped the race altogether because I hadn’t trained the way I’d hoped. But having the perfect conditions, training, equipment, weather, or situation to do something is rare, if not impossible. So, I used what I had. I did what I could do.

I run with people who are doing some amazing things on their journeys and are in far different places than I am. They inspire me to take risks and challenge myself. Take some time to consider where you started. You might be surprised. Because it’s not always where you are on your journey that matters the most, it’s how far you’ve come.