If running wasn't healthy would you still run?

Take your pick

Today's run (treadmill): 25 minutes

My wife mentioned a conversation she'd recently had with our son. They were talking about the motivation for working out. A question they'd pondered was, "If running wasn't healthy, would people still do it?" It's an interesting thought, because most people will tell you that they run for enjoyment. In my opinion, it's much more likely that most people run for the health benefit. Occasionally they'll enjoy  the experience.

Would I run if the benefits weren't clear? That depends on a lot of things. In this scenario, is running harmful or is it health-neutral? If we suddenly learned that running does not contribute to health, I know I'd mothball the treadmill in a second. But, unless it caused harm, I'd probably still run trails. The point is moot, because I've realized big health benefits from running 20 or so miles a week. While I sometimes dislike the work, I always feel great in the end.

There are people on the other end of the spectrum, those who run ultra-long distances or compete in Ironman competitions, who may actually do themselves more harm than good. I wonder if these people accept the risk and choose to run for hours because they love the experience. I suspect that many of these athletes view endurance sports with a distorted lens: if a little running is healthy, a lot of running must be even better. Unfortunately  anorexics tend to look at eating (or not eating) the same way.

I ran on the treadmill this morning and thought about the enjoyment vs. health question. I decided that the only reason I was running (while most people were still sleeping) was to fulfill the commitment I'd made to stay in shape. But this weekend I'll be viewing my running a little differently, with a planned trail run at Caleb Smith State Park. That's my definition of fun and it just happens to be a healthy thing to do.

Staying healthy by not running

Last night I was concerned that the headache and dizziness I suffered from last week was returning. I readied my gear for today's run but prepared to abandon my workout if I wasn't feeling 100% by morning. Last week's strategy to run despite feeling run-down turned out to be a bad gamble. I wasn't going to repeat that today if conditions were the same.

I resisted taking pseudoephedrine when I went to bed because I don't like taking medicine unless I'm really hurting. I figured that if I woke up in the middle of the night feeling awful, I'd reconsider. It turned out that the headache never came, but I still felt weak when I got up. I decided to forgo my run and take the extra time to relax. I think it was the right choice. It's hard to give up a workout, but skipping a run can sometimes be the healthier option.

I have a trust issue and you should too

Today's run (treadmill): 25 minutes

As I've said in a recent post, I don't trust drivers when I'm out on a run. I am constantly flabbergasted by what I see while I'm out on the road. Cars driving 50 MPH in my neighborhood that has a posted speed limit of 30. No one using turn signals or coming to a full stop at stop signs. By believing that drivers will always do the wrong thing, I'm able to manage safely.

Last weekend I was running along a road when I spotted a woman four houses ahead getting into her car. I had a suspicion that she wasn't going to be careful and as I came closer, I saw her backing out quickly without looking. Had I not been hyper aware, she might have hit me - or come close to it. I was up and over the curb before the situation became dangerous. That didn't stop me from screaming, "Hey, did you look before you pulled out?! Do you ever look?!" I could tell she felt bad or was freaked out by my screaming at her. Either way, I'm hoping she won't forget the lesson.

This morning I ran on the treadmill because it was raining slightly and that meant conditions outside would be dark and slippery. Nothing interesting to report about my indoor run, but when I left for the train a little after 6:00 AM, I found myself in the position of being the driver pulling out with a runner passing by. Even though it's dark and quiet at that time, I was careful and looked both ways. The runner was hard to see because he wore dark colors and was running on the right side of the road. He either assumed I'd see him or was planning to thread the needle and run past my car once it cleared the end of the drive.

I saw him after taking a careful second look to my right and hit the brake before backing out. He passed by unscathed. I wanted to yell to him that he's invisible and was taking a risk by running in dark clothes, but I've learned by now that people resent being told these things. The only reason I didn't hit this fool was that I double-checked both sides before I backed out. I don't trust drivers when I run, and I don't trust runners when I drive. Trust must be earned and so far, no one's earning.   

When metrics matter less, the run matters more

Today's run (street): 2.5 miles

When you first begin to run, it quickly becomes obvious how much you need to learn. I look back at my early days and realize how many bad decisions I'd made (sprinting without a warm-up,  buying Nike shoes, wearing cotton socks, etc.). Once I understood that wicking clothes were de rigueur and finally learned what "PR" meant, I started to focus more on performance metrics and the technologies to capture data.

As I mentioned above, I first bought Nike running shoes, but it was primarily because I didn't know brands. But I also bought them because they had a storage well under the insole where I could put my Nike+ chip.With the Nike+ chip and Sportband, I was able to capture interesting data about my runs including time, speed and distance. Until the Sportband display corroded (I actually went through three Sportbands, each with a MTBF of 3 months) I was able to see my pace in real time as I ran. It was exciting to monitor my progress.

I switched to Garmins after that, and studiously recorded my metrics. I analyzed my performance and tried to understand why my average pace improved or worsened from month to month. The numbers were important to me. Over the last year, I've noticed that I've stopped checking my pace as often when I run. I watch my distance and monitor my heart rate but the speed that I run doesn't interest me much anymore. I can't say that I've given up on performance (it's always great to see when I'd paced under 9:00) but that's not what's important right now.

I can't help thinking about the recent WSJ article that correlated fast paces to negative health in older athletes. Maybe that's part of it, though my decreased focus on speed (except when racing) has been a long time coming. I ran my usual route today about 15 seconds slower than average, but I was happy because I did the run. It took years to feel that way. I wonder how long it will last.

My first 100K (it's not what you think)

A unique feeling

When I started this blog four years ago, my only goal was to document my experience as a runner. I'd run in the early '90's but never documented my progress and I regretted that. I thought a daily journal might motivate me to get out and run so I'd have something to write about. Although I felt committed to both, I couldn't help wondering whether I'd tire of writing or running and, if so, when.

I noticed that the Emerging Runner site odometer has recently passed 100,000 unique visits. I used to look at hits, pageviews and other metrics and even thought about going beyond the rudimentary SEO that I'd set up for web discovery. After a while I decided to just focus on the content and let the audience build organically. Still, I appreciate every one of those 100K visits.

At some point I'll go through my large collection of posts and select some favorites that I will share. I've found a lot of value from this archive as a gauge of my running progress. But more than that, it's been a great way to capture the daily occurrences of my life (albeit with a running bias) that would normally be lost over time.