Thoughts on… running

If you have read my post on Bedok Reservoir, you would have known how I started running. However, I have an uneasy and complicated love-hate relationship with running.

I hated running. Just the idea of it irks me. When I was schooling, we were all made to run during physical education classes (PE) to train for our NAPFA (National Physical Fitness Award) test. Although I look forward to PE classes and generally do enjoy them, I always ALWAYS dread the run. Most of us girls do. This is because it exposes (to the opposite sex), not our weaker physicality, but our ‘ugly’ side: hair askew or ironed flat on our scalp, the smell emanating from our pits, all the un-glam huffing and puffing during the run, all the unseemly heaving and panting after, and all our fatty bits jiggling with every step. Oh the shame that a run brings to us girls, a stain on our effortlessly (no, not really) pulled-together veneer.

However, upon growing and maturing (hopefully) and no longer partaking in the embarrassing activity involuntarily, I had a change of heart and now partake in it voluntarily. All in the name of health, vanity and ego. I must clarify, however, that I am a half-hearted runner. While at times my bones scream for a run in the great outdoors with elements of nature beating down my back – particularly during lull periods at work filled with banality – most of the time I do not look forward to running. It takes every fibre of my willpower (I must admit that I have an embarrassingly small quantity of it) not to turn my back on a running session, while the devil in my head lies to me by saying that I’ll do double the distance tomorrow. One thing I learnt about running (and exercise in general), is to NEVER say you’ll do it tomorrow because you NEVER will. Once you push it off once, it NEVER gets done. You need willpower the size of an elephant to kick-start the habit again.  Trust me on this.  

Recently I came across this article on why running is good for writers; it helps to unclutter your mind, gives it a break, increases productivity and eliminates stress (all those endorphins produced behbey!). But of course, most sports will give you those added benefits, not only running. Running is just the chosen medium for the writer. I do agree with the benefits of running but, personally, I find that running is a hit-and-miss activity. There are few good days and plenty of bad days, for me at least.

Let me start with the good days. On the occasional (read: rare) good days, I complete a run (no matter the distance) without feeling that I did any strenuous physical activity or exerted any energy. I go home extremely satisfied and congratulating myself on all the hard work that allowed me such a smooth and effortless run. I also liked to think that I am now, to some extent, healthier, fitter and slimmer. I also gained a sense of achievement and an enlarged self-esteem, a Superwoman invincibility that allows me to tackle any looming activities and tasks. This cuts away any procrastination and self-doubts that I may have had before. It’s an awesome feeling and I love it. My head is clear and gives me the much needed break from the stresses of daily living. During these awesome runs, I only have to get my breathing right and my mind is free to wander. I think about anything and everything except for the run itself. I think about rainbows, unicorns and “Oooh! Look how pretty the sun lands on that tree! It shines! This is gold!” It is also when my creative juices are running along as well, high on rainbows and unicorns, and they conjure up exciting ideas which I almost always forget after the run. If I’m lucky, I will remember one or two ideas, like this one, in which (during a semi-good run) I thought that it would be a remarkable idea to write about running. Also, the release of The Oatmeal’s (for the uninitiated, go Google) new release is about running, The terrible and wonderful reasons why I run long distances, which prompted the topic.

However, these ‘hits’ are few and far in between. Usually my running sessions start and end badly, with me arriving (in a bastardised version of running) at the finishing line, superbly relieved that it’s over. I would be panting like a dog, my heart would be congaing inside my chest and I’ve made jelly of my ankles, resulting in a bastardised version of a limp home. The unnatural gait is made even more pronounced by my clenched muscles luxuriating in a lactic acid bath. During these runs I feel exhausted as soon as I start, and I am unable to zone out, thinking instead about how hot it is, how tired I am, how tired I will be after, the things I have to do, how thirsty I am, why the torture, why I’m not blessed with modelling genes, why did I gobble up all the French fries yesterday at lunch and WHY WHY WHY on earth am I running?! It is difficult to focus on the run. Breathing turns into a downright chore; the air feels like liquid lead, thick and viscous and difficult to suck in. And once I managed to inhale some air, it weighs me down, as if conspiring to push and flatten me into the ground. Also, the whole time I am competing with the urge to cut the run short. It’s a tough and uphill battle. Sometimes, I do wave the white flag and end the run earlier *shame-faced*. On these bad days, it is as if EVERYTHING is out to get me, to discourage me from running and to remind me why I hated running in the first place. This is where the ‘hate’ part of the relationship resides.

There you have it, the reality of running. Or at least, MY reality of running. It is difficult to get started, and difficult in between, and difficult all the way through. But there are times when rainbows do appear and unicorns nod their horns at you and you come back all refreshed and reenergised and ready to take on the world. It is for those rare good times (but mostly in hopes of a leaner slimmer physique) that I continue running.

Now if you would excuse me, I have to suit up and do battle once more. Wish me luck!