"When Did You Start Running?"
To answer that question, it requires a step back in time.
Whenever I share my running journey and the progression to where I am now, one of the questions I get asked the most, is this: when did you start running?
So let’s take a trip down memory lane so you can better understand how I got here.
Let’s Rewind:
Growing up, I was always an athlete — thanks to my mom, who enrolled me in just about every sports lesson imaginable. At a young age, I did ballet, gymnastics, swimming, basketball, soccer, figure skating, and tennis. And some of these classes were multiple times a week. I won’t even try to show you the ballet videos because they’re downright comical. Picture a group of graceful little girls gliding on their toes — and then there’s me, the awkward odd duckling waddling behind them. My family and I spent one evening watching all the home videos we recorded on our camcorder, and I watched a VCR tape of myself trying to keep up with the other ballerinas during a performance, and it’s one of those face-palm moments where I can’t help but laugh.
Gymnastics was tough — I’ve never been a flexible person, not even as a kid, and it definitely showed on the mat. When it came time to do flips, I was so scared that I didn’t get very far in the class.
Swimming — I was an OK swimmer. I could do all the moves — backstroke, freestyle, breast stroke, and butterfly (not the biggest fan of that one), but it wasn’t a sport that I truly felt passionate about. I passed the swim class at our local YMCA and that was about it.
Basketball — I got injured so many times on the court. That didn’t last either. Though I do admit, I tried really hard to make it work. I think my glasses breaking from catching the rebound was the final straw.
Figure skating — this one stuck with me. While most little girls were struggling to stand on the ice, I naturally glided. It was already a commitment as is — the ice skating rink was always a half hour drive at least two times a week and I remember my mom and siblings really sacrificing a lot of their time for me to attend private lessons with my coach. But I fell in love with the idea of making progress in the sport.
Soccer — this one lasted quite awhile. I was always a stronger defensive player, but sometimes would be put in mid-field, where I’d be running the most. Also, I was always knocked down in most of the soccer games. Back then, I convinced myself it was because of how aggressive I got on the field, but honestly, maybe I was just really dramatic? I even rocked a knee brace in middle school because I was so certain that I “injured my knee.”
Tennis — this sport became the one I ultimately continued forth with. Now to this day, I still occasionally play tennis. I always tell myself I could’ve spent more time improving my form and power because I found this sport so enjoyable. I have to credit a lot of my cadence and speed to my tennis progression.
Clearly, I was an athlete growing up. Over time, I realized what truly motivated me to perform the way I did in these sports.
It’s the competitive nature that really fine-tunes the athlete in me.
You see, I had this secret obsession not to “hang with the girls,“ but to be able to “hang with the boys.” Yeah, surprisingly, I was a tomboy once upon a time. Dating back to even earlier before the sports, I would play with sports cars more than Barbie dolls. I’d line them up on a placemat that had little roads, stores, parks, and parking lots. Each car had a personality, a role, or even a friend group. I’d scoot them around one by one, building elaborate stories, inspecting each shiny car like it was a prized possession. I like to think that’s where my love for detail came about.
Connecting The Dots:
Looking back, I see now that playing sports was my way of expressing that quiet competitiveness. I wasn’t the smartest kid in the room, and I definitely didn’t feel like the prettiest, but I could push myself to be great at sports. That required discipline and motivation… right up my alley. But here’s the problem — I somewhat enjoyed playing all the sports. Why pick one when… I could play them all? So instead of focusing on one and becoming the best, I tried to be good at everything. And I was — always good, but never the best. And that truth ate at me.
If only I had stuck with tennis — maybe I could’ve made top 6. Maybe even top 3.
If only I’d focused on soccer — maybe I’d be the star that my coach wanted and played every single game. Maybe I would have been captain for my skills, not just because I’d been around long enough. (Yeah, that’s how I ended up being one of four captains in middle school).
If only I stuck to basketball and pushed to get better… nah, I really wasn’t that upset when I didn’t make the basketball team. That one was never my favorite sport anyway.
But figure skating… I never wanted to stop my lessons. If only my coach hadn’t moved to a different city and I kept going — how far could I have gone?
So When Did I Start Running?
When I really think about when I first started running, the answer is apparent in the beginning of this Substack. You’re probably thinking, ‘the girl never stopped moving!’ Precisely. I’ve always been quick on my feet. In every sport I played, movement was my passion. Suicides in tennis, warm-up drills in soccer… I barely registered them as effort. But the truth of the matter is, I was moving long before I realized it was running.
But long-distance running? That was an entirely new arena. One I knew nothing about. But in 2020, the curiosity started to grow…
How did people do that?
Run for miles?? It looked painful.
Where did they even find that kind of endurance?
Did it require mental discipline to get there? Wherever ‘there’ was.
Challenge. Accepted.