I hate running

Denise Hazlick Entertainment editor • Profile

I have what you’d call a love-hate relationship with running. I absolutely love the way I feel when I’m done. Fit, focused and full of energy, I feel like an athlete.

But not today. Today was a long run day and after this particular outing, running and I are barely on speaking terms. I am exhausted. My hip flexors are sore, my feet ache, my glutes are cramped and my upper back is tight. Can somebody please remind me again why I’m doing this?

In my quest for Ironman Canada, I had just one major concern — the marathon. It is the boogeyman lurking in the bushes, a dark, menacing presence wearing a San Francisco Giants cap (all evil entities do) that I’m afraid will jump out in front of me on race day. Because, you see, I really don’t like to run. I’ve grown to appreciate it, like the musical stylings of Ludacris, but it’s never gotten into my soul, like the deep-to-the-core sounds of James Brown or Prince.

Because of this lurking fear, I feel like I have to do a marathon before Ironman, just to prove to myself that I can do it, survive it and feel, well, lukewarm about doing it again. My first marathon will be May 1 in Vancouver, B.C. Right now, I am in full training mode, and as part of that training, in addition to the Wednesday night track workouts, I do long runs on Sundays with my trainer, Jeff. On today’s schedule was a 2 hour, 20 minute run.

I’ll start off by admitting that I didn’t go into this morning’s run in my best shape. I stayed out late Saturday night, listening to music, and yes, some alcohol was involved but not enough to induce a hangover. But because of my late-night adventures, I did not get a lot of sleep. And in order to get a little more sleep, I did not get up early enough to really eat before the run. Tired and running on a quarter-filled tank — a recipe for mediocrity.

The run started out fine enough. The first half mile or so is always a battle between mind and body. The body is just getting warmed up, working out the kinks, aches and pains while the mind is hard at work trying to convince you that you should quit before you get started. But once we got about a mile into the run I was feeling pretty good. In fact, we were flat flyin’.

“Is it just me or are we really hauling today?” I ask.

“Oh, yeah, we’re moving,” Jeff replies.

A running conversation
The conversation is plentiful early on. On our running route, we cross the Interstate 90 floating bridge, which connects Seattle to the eastside suburbs. It’s a beautiful sunny day — unusual for Seattle in early March. Mt. Rainier looms above the deep blue waters of Lake Washington. We comment on the gorgeous scenery and the warm sunshine. And we talk about running.

“At the rate you’re going, you’ll be running 9-minute miles by the end of the summer,” Jeff says. “How do you feel about that?”

“I feel great about it,” I reply. “I'm pretty amazed at how far I’ve come in a year, especially since I don’t see myself as a runner.”

“So if you weren’t doing Ironman in 2005, do you think you would have tried a marathon?” Jeff asks.

“No WAY!”

Which prompts Jeff to ask the magic question “why,” which forces me to reveal my dark secret: “Because I don’t really like running, and I definitely don't like running enough to want to do a marathon.”

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