Scientific studies have shown that our brain has an ability to create ‘geotags’ for our memories – fusing together our memories about places and our memories about events. This means that thinking about an event reminds us of the place where the event took place, or returning to a place will remind you of a particular event. Being home for Christmas is a perfect example – when you fly home, specific memories and emotions surface, linked to previous times you have been home for the holidays. For me, I also have this experience when I run. Running in a particular place for me can bring back memories – memories about what I was thinking when I ran the same route previously, memories about what was happening in my life at that time, or memories about the exact run that I completed – did I do it well, was I exhausted, ecstatic, slow, fast…you get the idea.
This weekend I experienced one of these moments…returning to a place and being reminded of a particular event.
The event I was reminded of? My first run.
170 weeks ago I went for my first run ever. 170 weeks – that is three years, three months and five days. Seems like a long time, but for most runners, it is a very short period of time. Most runners have been running their entire life – not me. I went for my first run 170 weeks ago.
Perhaps I am overstating things by saying this was my FIRST run ever – I mean I recall running down the street at age eight towards the ice cream man to make sure that I got there before he left, age nine chasing my little sister around Target and then running to my Mom to tell on her because we were having a fight and I even remember running up and down the court playing basketball through elementary school, middle school and part of high school. However, in those three scenarios there was a reason behind the run – ice cream, getting my sister in trouble, or victory – something that motivated me to pick my feet up just a little bit faster and run. There was some tangible reward at the end.
But, 170 weeks ago, on a sunny Monday evening in Christchurch I went for the first run in my life where there was not a tangible reward at the end. I went for a run because I wanted to, not because I had to. I went down to Hagley Park (I actually drove the 1km to the park because I didn’t know how long I would be able to last running and I didn’t want to run from home in one direction, then die, and have to make my way all the way home limping or having an asthma attack or feeling fatigued and overwhelmed…I decided that because Hagley Park is essentially a circle, if I failed early on, the car wouldn’t be far away). I nervously got out of the car, walked over to the path, put my headphones on, pressed play, then started to walk. After a few steps I started to pick it up and put one foot in front of the other faster and faster. Before I knew it, I was ‘running’.
Forty minutes later I stopped. I was alive. I had survived. I wasn’t injured, out of breathe or hating life. I made it through and returned to the car in one piece. That day I ran 7.1km non stop. It felt great. The next evening, Tuesday, I ran 4km. Wednesday I took the day off, but Thursday I ran 6.5km and Friday I did 7.5km. I was hooked. I couldn’t believe the feeling I got from such a simple activity that I used to loathe. How had I never discovered this before? And what’s more, how on earth could I think that I was incapable of running?
Since then, Hagley Park has held a special place in my heart. Running is such a huge part of my life and Hagley Park is where I discovered it. Where I discovered that I could run, that I wanted to run, and that I loved to run. Christchurch itself is the city where I ran my first ‘race’, one month after that fateful Monday evening in Hagley Park. It is also the city where I ran my first sub-1:45 half marathon (June 2013, 1:43:35).
Hagley Park itself is just such a beautiful place to run, especially in the autumn time, when the trees change color, the leaves fall to the ground and the air has a nice crisp chill to it – it is a truly magical feeling on a cold Christchurch morning to put on my running shoes, put on some music and jog down to Hagley to escape the world for an hour or two.
The scenery itself inspires me to run – how could you not want to explore!
While I have run in Hagley numerous times, this past weekend felt even more special because the Christchurch marathon had returned to the city for the first time in three years, and as I ran around Hagley, I was joined by marathoners completing the last 15 km of the marathon. I was inspired by them, and in awe of them, as well as partly jealous. I cheered them on, but partly wishing that I too was completing a marathon in that beautiful city. My fastest half marathon was in that exactly race, two years ago. I entered again last year, but had IT band issues so couldn’t run it. You will have noted from my comments above about when I first started running – I ran 7.1km, 4.5, 6.5 and 7.5 all in week 1 – I tend to overdo things, to overtrain, to overcommit, and therefore I tend to get injured.
This year, I thought I would be back into it again but I had made an executive decision not to enter any of the events this weekend (not even the 10km). This was partly because I wanted to enjoy my visit (my first visit in a year) and if I enter a race, it affects what I eat and drink and my social life for the week prior. I wanted to see friends, try new restaurants and bars and have a flexible schedule.
But the key reason was that this year, I want to make sure that I don’t overtrain, overcommit and overwork my body. When I began running 170 weeks ago, I gave it 100%. I didn’t do the recommended 10% increase in mileage per week, I didn’t do any complimentary strength work or stretching or yoga. I didn’t know that there was a particular technique or form to running nor did I follow any particular training program. I just ran. I ran fast. I ran hard. And I ran 25km in my first week. Looking back, with all I know now, no wonder I tore my left meniscus a week after the 15km City 2 Surf.
So, for the first time since I started running, I have decided to focus on my running form and technique. I have learned from my mistakes and want to continue to create new memories running, geotagging my way around the world. In particular, I want to transform and improve my form, get the functional strength I need and work up my speed before I begin training for an event again. I want to kill my next event, smoke my previous PBs and feel that exhilaration of crossing the finish line 100% proud of myself. I don’t want to run for 21km and then be disappointed, or feel pain in the last 5km, or wish I had completed more training in the lead up. I also want to save my knees and preserve my body so that I can continue running for the next thirty to forty years. In order to do that, I need to fix my flaws, understand my weaknesses and focus on improving my form so that when I enter my next race, I feel 110% prepared. 110% committed, focused and ready to just give it my all, physically and mentally.
Until then, as I hope these photos show, I am enjoying running again, remembering my roots and reminiscing on why I started running in the first place. Stopping to take photos, to smell the roses, to take in the scenery and breathe the crisp fresh winter air. Using this period to refocus, to learn from my mistakes and start training smart. Or, failing that, I hope that by taking this year off, my renewed sense of focus will at least give my body the running form, technique and strength that I will need when I (inevitably) fall back into my old habits of overtraining and overworking my body in the future. Or at least that’s what I’m telling myself…