Making Your Miles Matter

The title of this piece is based on the title of a presentation I gave last month at my college's Student Wellness Retreat. The retreat, which made its first annual debut on the college calendar last year, is an example of a great thing that colleges and universities can do. For a full day, students and presenters had an opportunity to eat excellent, healthful meals; to receive short massages; and to attend a plethora of sessions that included information on stress relief, participatory dance, drawing and poetry, exercises on goal setting, and a chance to receive the powerful healing energy of reiki. Such a day is a much-needed antidote to the all-work and no-play mentality that seems to infuse the 24/7 work pace for so many people of the 99 percent crowd.

My session was aimed at encouraging participants to consider setting goals to complete big races: marathons, triathlons, half-marathons, or 10Ks. Even shorter distances such as 5Ks were on the table. The goal was to get the body moving and, in my mind at least, entering a running, walking or multi-sport event that was just out of the range of one's comfort zone was one way of doing so.

The session drew four participants. This didn't particularly bother me as it also was scheduled at 8:30 a.m. and was paired against Irish Dance, Reiki, and Humor. Not to mention free chair massages, or the fact that being in academia can make one accustomed to speaking to an audience of one.

The participants all were genuinely interested in getting in shape, and had set goals for themselves to do upcoming races. We talked about visualization, the logic of training plans, rest days, easy days, long runs, speed work, and tapering. They all seemed to enjoy the session, and were sincere in their thanks. But I left it feeling as if it had been slightly off-kilter, and wondered, of course, if the reason for that was that I might have felt off-kilter myself.

Training is an odd word. It connotes learning, self-discipline, and development. It also is a serious word, a word that seems to take fitness, exercise, and working out to an entirely different, somewhat agro level. I use the word often as a synonym for workouts or physical fitness, but in doing so, I wonder if I am really capable of living up to the expectations of what training connotes.

I do my best, but like everyone else, I have good days and bad days. I also go through spells of good weeks and bad. And it is during those latter times that I wonder if making your miles matter has an effect of taking the fun out of what you are doing.

Do your miles really matter? For what purpose? Why?

Right now, I feel like I am in great physical shape. I am slow, but my cardiovascular power is strong and my stamina is even better. I find myself enjoying the series of days like the past three where I biked 21 miles one day, swam 2,100 yards the next day, and biked 9 more miles and ran 5.2 miles on day three. The movement invigorates me, and fills me with joy. But it also fills me with doubt.

That is the reason why, I think, that you need to make your miles matter. In order to overcome self-doubts.

Because the rain began pouring down steadily around 4 p.m. and hadn't let up as of a few minutes before midnight, I ran indoors today on the Saratoga Springs' YMCA's wonderful track. The track is a bit smaller than what you would find on a school field, with nine laps equaling a mile. But it's a good social place where runners, walkers, kids, and a whole slew of others converge to work out. As I was running my miles, I found myself thinking that the Y was a pleasant place at least partly because you're surrounded with people who are "training". There's safety in numbers, it seems.

It's also a place where you can create private rivalries, vowing to outpace others. Sometimes, your "competitors" realize they're being chased, and step up their pace, making it beneficial for everyone in the long haul.

Today, I ran at the end of a day that felt a bit trying to put it mildly. A conflict had surfaced, and in my questioning of a particular decision, I felt as if I were being made to appear unyielding, incapable of what I was doing, and undeservedly angry. I began wondering if there was some sort of jealousy afoot, and as if people had liked me better when I wasn't in shape, when I was fat. I knew of course that that was a silly point because what mattered was how well I liked myself. And it was here that I realized that a spark could be kindled. Moving your body is really about moving yourself toward a new understanding, toward liking yourself.