Running without a purpose always felt like a waste. Training for basketball made me think that running should only be combined with some other activity, to essentially justify the running. Football, tennis, soccer, basketball, tag. Anything to give this running a purpose.
Running to just run? Not in my wheelhouse.
Plenty of previous clients I have worked with have run marathons or half marathons and a part of me always felt guilty for not being able to relate. I was their training them to improve their overall health through fitness but I couldn’t even relate to that particular pain (aka training style).
‘Find your potential’ is the motto R&G. I took this motto as my own personal motto once begin R&G. It was my purpose to find how far I could push myself, my body, my business, others, and even my own personal journey.
Hypocrite is was I called myself for not haven taken on any challenge of running beyond a 10k.
How I am supposed to push any client or talk “mental toughness” to anyone if I consistently avoid the style of exercise that I was most afraid of?
Fortunately, my mom has taken on running as her favorite form of exercise. I couldn’t of been more proud of her. After being by her side for her first 5k, then 10k, the idea of a half marathon came into the picture.
Mom thought it was a grand idea, and then as mom does best, she pressures others to join. Then it became, my wife would do it with her. Then all a sudden my aunt from Arizona was going to fly in to take on the race as well. It became a ‘thing’.
Here I was. The trainer. The fitness guru.
I was hiding. It didn’t want to do it. But. How was I going to sit on the sideline? I can’t. I won’t. Not in my DNA. Unless we are talking softball. I don’t do softball.
Fast forward to today, 3 to 4 runs a week is the routine with an 8 mile run on the horizon this Sunday.
We are 6 weeks out from this race and EVER SINGLE practice run up to this point has been a battle. A conscious battle between the angel and the devil on my shoulders. The angel encouraging and pushing me forward with ever step. He was there every lap around town lake telling me that I have brighter future. The John Wooden on angels.
He isn’t the one that I like very much though.
The devil on the other shoulder though. He is always making great arguments with a box of donuts waiting for me on the couch talking Dallas Cowboy and Dak’s contract negotiations. Any time my hip flexor tightens up or when my ankle is shooting with pain, he is the one that empathizes with me. He lets me know “it’s okay to quit Beau. No one will notice if you quit Beau. Let’s go get pizza Beau.” Sometimes he even tricks me into thinking he actually cares about me on a real personal level.
This devil guy really gets me.
Unfortunately for him, he understands the old me.
The one that didn’t take on hard things. The shy kid who takes time to believe in himself. The one that wanted to please everyone. The one that procrastinated. The one who didn’t look fear in the eye, scared of what he might find.
This devil knew THAT Beau.
Running is teaching me that things are better you tell that guy to ‘shut up’ and don’t stop running.