What I Learned From Being A Slow Runner

Over 67 percentof the United States is either overweight or obese.

Getting more Americans involved in running could change both of these sad sets of statistics.

I was one of those people.

And then I dropped 80 pounds and completed two marathons.

Here’s what I learned from being a slow runner.

And when I’d see pictures of myself, I’d know how much I had let myself go.

(Years later, Jon joked that I was now thin, and Snoopywas on the unemployment line.)

My first attempt at fitness started with walks around my neighborhood, as well as mall walks.

I was so out of shape then I was even at the back of the pack of those.

But I kept at it twice a week.

Then I started walking in a local three-mile weekly fun run that my future running club put on.

I was hooked, and I wanted to run more and more.

I quickly became addicted to these events, even though I consistently finished in the back of the pack.

A member of my running club also started working with me as a coach to help me improve.

By that summer, I finally got below 40 minutes for a 5K.

I did all this despite continuing to be a slow runner.

And I still don’t quite know why I am still a slow runner, despite the weight loss.

Maybe it was having encephalitis as a child and temporarily losing my physical coordination.

Or maybe I’m just built this way.

It’s not for lack of trying to get faster.

I’ve put in the work.

And it can sometimes be frustrating to still be at the back of the pack.

But I still have learned a lot from being slow.

Giving kids trophies just for showing up is supposed to lead to the end of our country or something.

I look at it a different way.

I have hard-earned medals from many of the longer-distance races and trail runs I’ve run.

My most treasured possession is my New York City Marathon medal, engraved with my name and finish time.

Crossing the finish line and having that medal placed around my neck was the happiest moment of my life.

These medals are all participation awards in their own way.

Showing up and finishing was enough to get a medal.

Maybe the other kids could use some recognition as well just for trying.

Isn’t half of life showing up and participating?

Today, I find exercise fun, despite still being not very good at it.

And we assumed that doing those races were only for the elite.

It would be like playing a baseball game for fun with your friends in Yankee Stadium.

The first few times I ran around a track with my running club, I was completely miserable.

But I noticed that I found running a 5K easier, and I was a little faster, too.

But the only way to progress at all is to get out of your comfort zone.

Not every day is going to be a good one.

You just have to get through it.

No single training run will get you to the finish line in a race.

It’s lots and lots and lots of training runs.

And my spirit animal is the turtle slow and steady.

If you put in the work, you will be able to complete the race.

But that’s the only way to finish keeping at it over and over.

And I noticed something interesting.

Generally speaking, the people with the strongest positive emotional reactions to finishing were the slow runners.

Some would struggle to cross the finish line, staggering across.

Others would push to go as hard as they could.

There would be lots of tears of joy, and screams, and raised arms.

You could tell that this was one of the best moments of their lives.

Now I’m reaching the point where I’ve become much more positive about what I can do.

I had done plenty of spin classes indoors, though.

Being positive that I could succeed in bicycling close to 40 miles was crucial to actually doing it.

If I had psyched myself out over it, I would still be at the starting line.

I’ve been in races where there wasn’t even water left towards the end.

I’ve also had to deal with people walking across the track when I was trying to finish.

For some race directors, we slow runners are an afterthought.

I won’t spend my money on those who act that way.

Fortunately, they are few and far between.

Like the runner who insinuated that I was slow because I just didn’t want it enough.

I also had a bad fall in October 2016 when training for the New York City Marathon.

I ended having to get $3,000 in dental work and I have a permanent scar on my nose.

You also have to cut out those who have nothing to offer you but constant negativity and nastiness.

Easier said than done, but it’s an important skill to learn in life.

And it was brought home to me from my fitness journey.

I didn’t want to be the slowest, fattest one around a bunch of 20-something hardbodies.

Once you’ve done a few races, though, that self-consciousness slips away.

You find yourself not caring about making a fool of yourself.

I initially started doing the classes to cross train, and I was terrified about first going.

I like to try new challenges.

And I literally do not care what others think anymore.

That has carried over to the rest of my life.

So if someone calls me something, that’s their problem.

I’m not going to give away my power."

I have the power to define me, instead of letting others do so.

I have made a lot of positive changes in my life since I started running in 2013.

I’m a different person now, both physically and mentally.

This journey has totally been worth it.