Runners…you get me. New shoe day is a near sure bet for a good run. Like running on a cloud…

A few days ago was a new shoe day for me. And on that really great run I started thinking about how running has taught me some lessons about living through 2020.

Anticipation is often worse than reality. The moments before walking out the door are often fraught with doubt, anxiety, and maybe fear. Did I sleep enough? Eat enough? Am I hydrated enough? Did I train enough for this run? Usually, the answer is “yes”. My favorite running mantra: Trust your training. 2020 has crushed us with pain and insult, one after another. But I believe we were built for this. We have done hard things. And we can keep doing hard things. It’s true that experiencing hardship actually makes us stronger if we let it.

Good shoes make all the difference. I switched from New Balance to HOKA shoes about 3 years ago. Turns out the shape of my foot and the way I strike the ground just weren’t supported well in my old shoes. It’s no knock on NB. My husband still swears by them. It’s just that I do better in the HOKAs. I order them two pairs at a time–one for the gym, one for the road. It’s good to rotate. Everyone has their own support system, their own program. What works for me may not work for you. The key is finding the shoe that fits, and sticking with it.

Music motivates and brings back memories. When I was in high school, running track, in the off season, I ran at Hobart Arena, round and round the loop encircling the stands. When the weather was too cold to run outside, there was always Hobart. I secured my Sony Walkman to my belt and blasted my best mixtapes. A go-to favorite…U2’s bluesy Trip Through Your Wires from their Joshua Tree album (1987). “I was thirsty and you wet my lips…” I recently added it back to my current playlist. I literally get chills on my runs these days listening to that song. The lyrics. The way it takes me back to some of the best days of my youth…in a way, an escape. We need some nostalgia these days. Music takes us back in time, cradles us in our current emotions, and gives us hope.

Engage the core. About 6 years ago, I started running longer distances. When I finally figured out how important it is to breathe with my core, not just my chest, it changed my entire running game. I no longer ran out of breath, I shaved seconds and minutes off my best times, and I developed strength and definition in my core muscles. During this long, hard run, it’s more essential than ever to draw upon the deep core of my beliefs, my values. The roots of who I am are not found in rapid, shallow breathing, but in deep heart and soul work.

You rarely run alone. I’ve run 5k, 10k, 1/2 marathons and full marathons. The crowds cheering on the sidelines are nothing less than completely invigorating! If you have never cheered on runners in a marathon, you should. Even if you don’t know a single runner…your life will be inspired by the dedication, pain, joy, and pure elation of runners along the route. (Plus, the signs are incredible!) Even in my neighborhood on my daily runs, it’s unusual for me to not pass fellow runners or walkers who invariably offer a wave. No one is escaping the difficulties of 2020. We are not running this race alone. And we should be cheering each other on.

It’s ok to walk part of the race. Whether from pain, exhaustion, weather, or looking for a Port-a-John, I almost always walk a least a small portion of a long race. Somehow in my jumbled up way of thinking, I used to assume that anything less than a 110% effort in a race was a failure. But recently, I have realized that sometimes a short walking stint is exactly what I need to regroup and get to the finish line. It’s not failure. It’s strategic. And we should absolutely be doing the same thing in life this year. Take a flipping break! Walk a block. Pace ourselves. It’s ok. We don’t have to throttle forward at ludicrous speed. Breathe…

You can overcome injury to run again. Last year, during the Monumental Marathon, I shredded my knee. I think it’s my IT band. Mile 13 to 26…utter pain. At some point, I irrationally thought I would never walk again. Of course after 4 bottles of water, 2 beers, and 6 hours of ice, I was able to hobble up to bed. I dialed back my training. No marathons for right now. Got myself into physical therapy. And I’m running again. More like 1/2 marathon training. And that’s ok. 2020 is gonna knock us on our butts. And we will get up. And we will re-think our training. And we will get back out there.

There’s always a cold drink at the finish line. The minute you cross the finish line, there’s water and electrolyte replacement drinks. And in a lot of races, an ice old beer. Runners sweat. On hot days, my mouth is dry. My skin red. Thirst is one of the most powerful of all human desires. We can’t live more than a few days without water. This year sucks. So much has left us in a desert of sadness. We are so thirsty… But there is a finish line. I just know it. At my finish line, there will be the trip to Paris with my sister-in-law that we had to cancel due to COVID. And there will be the return to the in-person meetings of the professional organizations that I have come to love dearly. And there will be the live concerts that my husband and I have missed dearly.

New shoes are our tiny bit of hope and joy these days. It sounds so small…but new shoes, new thinking, new hope, can make all the difference…

Disclaimer: My viewpoints are not necessarily reflective of my employer, or any local, regional or national organization that I belong to. As a matter of fact, I pretty much just speak for myself. Please keep that in mind.