To put it bluntly, I really, really don’t like running. I never have. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always loved sport and I work out most days, but pounding the pavement has never done it for me. Maybe it’s the repetition, maybe it’s the fact I overthink it and get distracted, or maybe it’s the hurty-hurty-ouch-my-lungs bit. And generally when you don’t like something you don’t do it, so it’s fair to say that until recently I hadn’t gone on a run in many a year.
That was until a few months ago. My descent into the loathed happened on a friends’ weekend away with a wholesome group activity: a 5km. For those of you uninitiated with the metric system, 5km is about 65 miles. Due to generally disliking running (I think I mentioned that), I have always vehemently avoided doing it around other people- why mix torture and friendship? However, with some gentle goading and tickling of my competitive streak I agreed to do the Park Run, and guess what? It was fine. I mean my lungs hurt and my calves hurt and I wanted to stop the whole time, but it was still fine. I added it to my endorphin bank.
Around the same time another friend was in the midst of training for a marathon (approx 329 miles). She was cajoling pals (not me, don’t worry) into joining segments of her training runs, which was such a hit it birthed a run club. The Demon Club (nomenclature not fully understood) was born for ladies of all experience levels to build confidence around running and also just to have a chat. Now I was faced with a hard decision, for you see the only thing more powerful than my detestation of running is my love for organised activities. 6:45am starts don’t scare me when there’s camaraderie involved!
Circling back to my dislike of running, let me share a toxic trait that explains it: I only like trying things I know I’ll probably be good at. Failure is no option! Prodigy or bust! I have always had the tendency to rely on natural aptitude rather than hard work, which is another way of saying I’m a bit of a cop out. It’s a bias that has become a tactic to avoid discomfort, of which running is highly uncomfortable.
While I was determined to join the run club, I was still incredibly uncomfortable with my own perceived ineptitude, so my tactic was simple: show up for the runs but make sure you let everyone know you are not a runner and keep reminding them so they don’t judge you for being a shuffling heffalump. It’s an annoying tactic, I’ll admit, but it got me there. And yet again, it was fine. It turns out that distraction is a great help, and listening to the gals chat around me (obviously I couldn’t breathe well enough to join in) helped in plodding one foot in front of the other.
It’s been a few months now, and I’ve managed to keep the running up. I’m not miraculously pumping out marathons, but I am working up to 10km (which for once doesn’t seem like 587 miles). I have no intention for this post to proselytise with claims of If I Can Do It, You Can Do It, but I will say that it feels really good to actively do something I’ve dreaded for so long. I am grateful to have friends to run alongside and to hold me accountable, and the best part is I can now hold a conversation. There is a power that comes from noticing my own avoidant habits and getting out there for a trot anyway.
For any NYC based gals that fancy a run, come join us on Friday mornings and Tuesday evenings! Follow @thedemonclub on Instagram.
Katie Muirhead 