I vividly remember a conversation from a couple of years ago. I was talking to someone about success and work ethic. This person compared successful people and average people by using this analogy:

“Some people wake up and run three miles every morning. Nothing more and nothing less. They run just enough to keep their weight at bay and stay relatively healthy. Other people wake up before dawn to put in the extra hours of training to go harder and faster. They run marathons and ultras.“

This conversation would act as one of many catalysts to my “addiction” to exercise.

I joined a running group, followed a training plan, put in my miles six days a week and finished races with pretty decent times. I was applauded for my discipline. My 10Ks turned into half marathons and half into the full.

From then on I always seemed to be on a “plan”. I wrote on my calendar how many miles I needed to run each day and, upon completion, used my pink Sharpie to cross it off. Another run completed. I felt accomplished.

I went to bed before dark and woke up well before dawn. I had my coffee, a half of an English Muffin (I hadn’t “earned” a full one yet), went for my run, took a shower and went to work. I never missed a day. Even if I was traveling on business, vacationing with my husband, sick in bed or had prior plans: Running came first.

On my rare rest days I was irritable. I felt bloated and ugly. Nothing fit right. I didn’t feel “normal”.

I became obsessed with my “racing weight”. In the running world, this is a person’s ideal weight for optimum performance. I wasn’t an elite athlete, not even close, but I wanted to look like my idols: Kara Goucher, Lauren Fleshman and Shalane Flanagan.

Photo from The Oregonian

At some point I learned that I was burning about 80 calories a mile. While much of the running community uses this perk to enjoy “après-run” beer, hamburgers and queso, I did not.

Even when I was running 20+ miles a day I rarely ate more than 1,500 calories. I certainly never ate 2,000 calories because that was “average”. I was better than average. I told myself I could run farther on less.

I kept on making broken promises that if I squeezed in one more run I would eat some pizza or a bowl of spaghetti. Instead I “awarded” myself with Cheerios, egg whites and low calorie bread.

As you can imagine, my body was under a great deal of stress. Eventually it made itself pretty clear that it could no longer take the abuse.

I’m now having to rewire my brain to view running as a gift. I took for granted what many people only dream of. I’m healthy and strong enough to walk out my front door and run for an hour. That’s pretty damn amazing.

I’m also learning to use food as fuel for my body, rather than a reward after a hard workout. If I give it lots of nutrient dense food, it takes me where I want to go. It’s not the other way around.

I plan to return to the world of early morning runs, cold fall races and PRs. It will be gradual and only after I take it easy for a while, but I’ll return. Running has helped me gain confidence, shake off a bad day at work, cope with my dad’s death and reach goals I thought were once unattainable. Is running a slippery slope? Absolutely. It is possible to pull it off the “right way” by fueling properly, supplementing with strength training and taking REST days? You bet. I’m going to do it.

Isn’t it amazing how the most seemingly innocent conversations/articles/movies etc… can make such a profound impact?