I Get You

Just Another Runner’s Perspective                                                                                           March 2021                                                                                                                                 By Gale Fischer

I Get You

“So if you aren’t a runner please understand, if you ask a runner they’ll just say, that’s just who I am.”

October 19, 1997: I stood waiting at the mile eight marker with my wife and a group of friends as the bright and glorious autumn sun radiated over the Chicago skyline. Rubbing my hands together in an attempt to warm my fingers, I searched through the sea of runners approaching us and waited excitedly for our friend Clay. As a non-runner, I was captivated but I couldn’t understand why anyone would attempt to run eight miles let alone twenty-six miles. Although they were ordinary individuals like me, I couldn’t help but feel that each of these runners must be partially deranged with superhuman characteristics. After Clay passed by us at mile eight we ran to catch the train so that we could cheer him on again four miles later. As the race continued we were able to see Clay at a handful of pre-planned checkpoints. My inquisitiveness for what would draw each of these 20,000 runners to this sport continued to grow with each checkpoint but I just couldn’t wrap my brain around why anyone would choose to do this. I just didn’t get it.

My curiosity would push me out the door the next afternoon for my first run, a difficult and painful four-miler. A huge sense of relief shook me after completing this initial run but anticipation of completing another run sooner than later flooded through my soul. The physical and emotional feelings that come with the mental routine and muscle memory weren’t present then like they are today. The passion that I have for running now was not something that I experienced or felt on October 20, 1997, but completing one short run by today’s standards and the urge to attempt the marathon challenge changed something inside of me. A day earlier I didn’t get it but now in a small way, a day later, I got it. A part of me began to understand the mindset of an endurance athlete.

As I continued to immerse myself into the arena of running over the next year, I found myself a loner in a new but exciting world. I still had my network of family and friends who were non-runners. At this time I had not made any connections with other runners and was running in isolation each and every mile. My friend Clay, who I had watched run in Chicago, lived in Kansas. There was no email or texting for me at the time. I would talk to Clay occasionally on the phone but in reality, I was a runner living in a world with non-runners. I’ve always felt that an 80’s hit song by White Snake titled, “Here I Go Again”, was the perfect metaphor for the solo runner. One line in the song, “Like a drifter I was born to walk alone”,  is the perfect metaphor for an individual runner on a lonely stretch of country road rolling along mile after mile. As a new runner each and every run felt like a huge accomplishment and as I increased the distance for each weekly long run new milestones were common. These milestone runs placed me in a bubble of excitement. My friends and family supported me in my new endeavor but they didn’t get me. I truly felt misunderstood.

This feeling of isolation would disappear fifteen months after my journey began. I was invited to join a local group of runners for their weekly Sunday morning run. I would have to wait four days after the invitation to enter my new phase of running but it would be worth the wait. At the time I was hooked and had no doubts that running would be a part of my life for years to come but there was also something missing. I longed for someone, anyone to share my new passion with. Finding others to run with had been something that I desperately craved but there was another element that I had been searching for. Finding others who I could talk to about my newfound activity was something that I felt would make running whole. I felt an urge to form friendships and bonds with others who understood me.

I felt like a child waiting for Christmas to come as I counted down the days until I would join the Sunday morning run group. The day before the group run a January blizzard would rear its ugly head. I awoke bright and early the next morning with eight inches of fresh white powder, winds that created walls of blinding snow, and temperatures in the single digits. As I layered up I hoped and prayed that the weather wouldn’t scare any of the runners away. To my surprise, a group of four runners graciously welcomed me for a five-mile run in some of Michigan’s harshest winter conditions. Through that first year as a runner excitement and euphoria became common emotions that solidified running as an important part of my life. Finding a network of friends who enjoyed the sport like I did only enhanced the impact that running would have on my life.

The network of peers who shared my passion would quickly grow into a large group. Many would simply become acquaintances while others became regular training partners and ultimately best of friends. Social media still had not become an integral part of our society that it is now but weekly communications with local runners would come through emails, weekly workouts, and races. I felt a strong connection with all of these runners whether or not we were close friends or fellow runners. We understood each other in a way that my non-running family and other friends did not.

As members of the running community or the endurance athlete community, we all represent varying levels. There are those runners who venture no further than the 5K distance. On the other extreme, some prefer to focus their efforts on distances of one hundred miles or more. For others, running in itself does not quench their thirst for movement and activity. These individuals known as triathletes engage in three disciplines: running, biking, and swimming. Many in this group participate in triathlons of shorter distances while others thrive on the Iron Man distance which consists of a 2.4-mile swim, 112-mile bike ride, and a 26.2-mile run. For a small percentage, this distance is still too short. There are those who can complete a marathon in 2.5 hours while others take 6 hours or more. There are runners who take to the city streets, some who prefer country roads, and others who enjoy experiencing nature while traversing a wooded trail.  Varying extremes exist when it comes to endurance athletics. Many fall in the middle of these extremes. Although it may be difficult for those who are members of this large community to comprehend what it is like to partake in some of these outlying elements of our sport, on some level we all can relate to each other. We get each other.

 

Perhaps what I appreciate the most about running is that it can form the perfect bridge for mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual harmony, making it a very important component of day-to-day existence. I suppose that this blending together of these four human elements is common in any activity that stretches one’s mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual endurance. Although my non-running friends may support me, be inspired by me, or try to get who I am, they may struggle to understand why we in the running community do what we do. The best way to get a runner is to be a runner.

 

Until next time, this has been just another runner’s perspective.