I used to think "I'm not a runner"
Seems odd now that I've done 2 Ironman races, about a dozen marathons as well as many other shorter running races, but "I'm not a runner" was my belief for most of my life. Why did I think that? Let me tell you a story.
I was about 16 years old and was a competitive swimmer. Not just a little competitive, but I swam with people that qualified for the Olympics and on a good day I could beat them. One day after swim practice, the coach called us over and announced that the pool would be closed for maintenance for 2 weeks so there would be no practice. Even though I loved swimming and the training we went through, I cheered with the rest of my teammates until...
Coach called about 10 of us out and said that we should meet him by the new coliseum that was being built nearby. I was confused. I hadn't heard anything about a pool there, but coach said to just wear shorts and comfortable shoes.
I showed up and waited for instructions. Coach said "run". The outside was finished enough that there was a nice wide, smooth cement sidewalk all the way around. We all started running. Before I had gone a couple hundred feet, I was gasping for air. I finished the first lap (maybe a half a mile) and stopped by the coach and said "now what?" hoping he would have some other task for us, like maybe getting something cold to drink. He said "keep running".
I said I couldn't because my side stitch was bad and my shins were killing me. He replied that I didn't need to go fast, and I could walk when I needed to, but I had to keep moving and run as much as I could.
I managed to survive that hour. Fearing the answer, I asked "What about tomorrow?" and got the answer I was afraid of: "Same time, same place."
I said I might not be able to make it and he was very clear. "You miss any day of this extra training and you are off the team!"
I went home and told my mom I wasn't going to be on the swim team. When I told her why, my mom encouraged me to try and stick it out and it might even help my swimming. I ended up sticking out the running, but was grateful when the pool reopened and there was no more running.
That is my earliest recollection of believing that I was not a runner.
Next I'll talk about how this belief was reinforced in my mind as an adult.
I was about 16 years old and was a competitive swimmer. Not just a little competitive, but I swam with people that qualified for the Olympics and on a good day I could beat them. One day after swim practice, the coach called us over and announced that the pool would be closed for maintenance for 2 weeks so there would be no practice. Even though I loved swimming and the training we went through, I cheered with the rest of my teammates until...
Coach called about 10 of us out and said that we should meet him by the new coliseum that was being built nearby. I was confused. I hadn't heard anything about a pool there, but coach said to just wear shorts and comfortable shoes.
I showed up and waited for instructions. Coach said "run". The outside was finished enough that there was a nice wide, smooth cement sidewalk all the way around. We all started running. Before I had gone a couple hundred feet, I was gasping for air. I finished the first lap (maybe a half a mile) and stopped by the coach and said "now what?" hoping he would have some other task for us, like maybe getting something cold to drink. He said "keep running".
I said I couldn't because my side stitch was bad and my shins were killing me. He replied that I didn't need to go fast, and I could walk when I needed to, but I had to keep moving and run as much as I could.
I managed to survive that hour. Fearing the answer, I asked "What about tomorrow?" and got the answer I was afraid of: "Same time, same place."
I said I might not be able to make it and he was very clear. "You miss any day of this extra training and you are off the team!"
I went home and told my mom I wasn't going to be on the swim team. When I told her why, my mom encouraged me to try and stick it out and it might even help my swimming. I ended up sticking out the running, but was grateful when the pool reopened and there was no more running.
That is my earliest recollection of believing that I was not a runner.
Next I'll talk about how this belief was reinforced in my mind as an adult.
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