Though we opt for trampolines over pavement at Bari, we can’t deny that there’s something special and alluring about the care-free, no-nonsense nature of running. Especially when mother nature starts to gift us consistent 70 degree days (we’re waiting…), we get the draw towards taking exercise outdoors. But runners we are not. So we’re turning the Tribe mic over to Suzi, one of our soon-to-be summer interns, for an on-again, off-again love story of her runner’s trials.

I’ve had my ups and down with running. At 15, after realizing that I had close to no talent with a soccer or lacrosse ball, I let my sister drag me onto our high school cross-country team. Running, as a sport? I wasn’t convinced. The first day of preseason, the coach ran next to me and tried to get to know me as we ran. Gasping for breath and sputtering as I tried to form sentences, I told her that I was really just trying this out, and we would see how the rest of the week went. I was excited to do something different, and I knew that I definitely had a runner hidden somewhere inside of me (as a kid, I used to grab my dad’s hand and yell “Run like a cheetah!” as we barreled down the street). I just wasn’t sure I could harness that runner and mold her into something good enough for this team. And I did have to be good—competition courses through my veins no matter what I’m doing.

The first week was difficult. My body hurt from the too-tight ponytail at the top of my head, to the newly-activated muscles in my arms and core, to the screaming in my quads, hamstrings and calves, to the blisters and broken toenails on my feet. Yes, this may sound like the result of some kind of rare form of torture, but I soon realized it was just my body trying to adjust to the things I was introducing it to. Over time, my feet got used to pounding the sidewalks every day, my legs built up the muscles I needed to carry me through our workouts, my arms and torso found the perfect rhythm to propel me forward, and my ponytail eventually loosened up. Before I knew what hit me, I longed to pull on my shorts and tank top, slip into my sneakers and head out with the team, whether it was a distance run, track workout or dreaded hill workout. We all went out together, ran until we thought we were going to drop and then came back to stretch and laugh and watch the occasional Kristen Wiig SNL skit.

I have undoubtedly had my ups with this amazing sport. But I have also had my downs. Twisted ankles, swollen knees and shin splints, to name a few, were frequent guests on my cross-country and track teams. Most recently, the hip injury I attribute to my half-marathon nearly two years ago has haunted me in and out of my runs. Yet I always go back. Whether I am giddily embarking on a pain-free run, begrudgingly hopping on the elliptical or sitting on a table at physical therapy, I am a runner. Despite the comments from doctors and friends that our joints and our bodies simply aren’t compatible with running, I will always be a runner. Which is why I was thrilled when my Dad handed me a book entitled “Born to Run,” by Christopher McDougall. Cheesy as the title may sound, this book is aptly named, as it chronicles the journey of an on-again, off-again runner exploring the limits of the human body through science, ultramarathons and a tribe in Mexico who simply never stopped running. What it all boils down to is, we are in fact all born to run.

The stories in this book excited me, baffled me and made me not only want to be a better runner, but a better person. That may sound absurdly saccharine, but I promise you will feel the same way after devouring this page-turner.

Even for those of us who do not identify as runners, descriptions of runners as “body artists, playing with the palette of human endurance,” and the sentiment of one ultrarunner that “you must be in tune with your body, and know when you can push it and when to back off…you have to listen closely to the sound of your own breathing; be aware of how much sweat is beading on your back; make sure to treat yourself…and ask yourself, honestly and often, exactly how you feel” applies not only to running, but to our work at Bari, and to our relationship with daily life.

For a teaser, read this article by the author, about the “smart” way to run, or check out some more inspiring quotes from his book here.

 

 

 

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