The Ordinariness Of It

I ran every day during the month of December just as I had the previous December. My 2012 streak was full of epiphanies and enormous changes in my strength, endurance, and focus. Although not entirely causal, a year of strong running followed, including two new personal records in half marathon and marathon distances, PRs that I had been chasing down without success for several years.

This December, as I embarked on my daily runs, I searched for the same kind of changes and realizations I had experienced last year. But no epiphany. Instead, it felt oddly ordinary.

I chose December as my month to streak because it is the anniversary of my start at distance running. I live in Brooklyn, New York. And while we have four seasons here, winters are comparatively mild without much snow accumulation and temperatures generally hovering around or just below freezing with some milder and some colder days. All the same, if I was going to generate excuses for not running, December sure could be the month to generate them. First is the weather. I prefer the cold to the heat and do love running in the gentle rain and snow, but it is not hard to tire of the extra discomforts and clothing requirements of winter runs. Combine the cold with my full-time job, special events for my two young children, winter illnesses, holiday preparations, and school vacation at the end of the month, and excuses not to run could take over.

But they didn't. Every day I pulled on running gear and took to the streets. I usually ran in the early morning after dropping kids off at the school bus. But one day the only time I could find to run was nearly midnight after a full day of work travel. To avoid injury, I kept each run relatively short, ranging between two and seven miles. My body was strong. I ran hard and fast. I experienced incredible joy and ease in each run. But that didn't feel like enough and I kept searching for more meaning.

Several people, runners and non-runners, following my streak called it impressive. Mid-month my reply to the impressive label was that I saw it differently:  that it was a self-indulgent gift to myself. Yesterday, a running buddy told me that my streak had inspired him to show up to a race starting line on a rainy January morning.

And it was in that moment that I fully realized that its very ordinariness was what made this past month most extraordinary. I am a 49 year old woman blessed with a strong and healthy body and a mind willing to disregard discomfort in order to live a life that is, to me, full of promise, joy, and ease. Some runs were more challenging than others, but I never regretted a run. Instead, each run delivered a heap of gratitude for being out of my desk chair, away from life's obligations for that moment and, especially, for being alive and moving through this beautiful world.