The Dreaded Track Running

I injured my knee in June. I kept running through my physical therapy though I had to limit my miles and change my scenery. They suggested the most dreaded type of arena for any runner. They said I need to run on a track. Gone were the rolling hills, uneven, scenic trails and pet running. I was Nascar, around and around I went. Circle after circle. Repetitive left turns. I’m sure when I was given this news my face (which has never mastered the art of hiding my feelings) resembled that of a person who was just told the neighbor’s dog peed and massacred their garden. I was horrified and frustrated. It was like community service for something I didn’t do.

The first time I “hit the track,” which was not nearly as enjoyable as “hitting the trails” or even “hitting the gym,” it was hard. It was monotonous. The only thing moving me forward was my music because it certainly wasn’t reaching an imaginary finish line at the end of a trail or road run. At least if I was running on a treadmill at the gym if I got bored I could do something else or change the TV channel. With track running there was no escape, no challenge.

Over time I started to enjoy it. I was able to truly turn my mind off. I was able to really turn inward. Other than counting my laps I didn’t have to worry about hills or mud or the person next to me at the gym breathing heavily and going faster than me. I was just running for the joy of running. My joints and muscles loved me for the soft surface and my knee began to heal even though I was running.

I started running early in the morning with my friend. The air is still crisp, cool even chilly at 5am. You're exhausted but the air catches you off guard and opens your eyes. The track is eerie with mist and fog and silence. So much silence. Maybe a rooster crows or a dog barks but the stars are out, the moon is staring at you and you run. You run in the dark and you feel the earth change. You run in a oval over and over and the sky lightens. The clouds cling to early morning rays, the grass to dew and you breathe deeply and exhale fully and you run. You’re not thinking, just running. It’s very Zen.

What track running has taught me: Pick a track with concrete stairs. I walk the stairs as a warm up but they’re also good for intervals or if you get super mega bored. The aluminum stairs SUCK very slippery when wet, very not sturdy. There are “regulars” at a track, just like at a bar. You’ll see them if you go the same times during the week. They will run or walk or stretch, but they’ll be there. Over time you will be able to greet them and they become kind of your soldiers. You rely on them without thinking. On days where you go alone to run, they’re comforting.  Your muscles and joints will thank you even if your brain will think you’re a hamster in a wheel. Sometimes, especially when you’re healing, it’s not about the challenge it’s about the doing.