Yesterday was the official 1 year anniversary of my very first race I ever ran (excluding some of the track meets I participating in during grade school). In December 2005, I ran in New York Road Runners 4 mile Holiday run in Central Park. I was registered to run this event again yesterday (which became a 5 miler due to construction in the park), but found myself as a spectator instead due to an injury i'm sustaining from the marathon. I awaited for my trainer to finish and had a bitter-sweet conversation with him over breakfast about where I came from, how I got there, and what my future holds. I'm going to take the time and through several posts, reminisce and share this part of me with all of you.
The Embryonic Stage of my Running Career
March 2004, I was sitting in my apartment in Inwood, NY, IMing with a friend in my neighborhood who is a personal trainer. I was in my 2nd semester of grad school and despite having a June performance to choreograph for, it was starting to become clear to me that my dancing days were numbered due to my work and school schedule. I was actually ok with this realization because I felt that I had done what I wanted to do with dance in my life. But having danced my whole life, i've always been an active individual. All of the sudden, I was spending the majority of my time behind a desk, in front of a computer. I needed to do something to release all the pent up energy and stress I was enduring. So during this IM conversation, I told my friend Rob that I decided I wanted to take up running.
I lived a few blocks from a park that bordered the water and a forest like setting - flat stretches across fields and killer hills in the woods - a tranquil place for running. The first time I went out there I laced up my crosstraining shoes and majorly overdressed with about three layers of clothes on. Out the door I went and walked 3 blocks to the park. Once I stepped foot in the park I began more of a sprint than a trot. It took about 30 seconds for my lungs to start burning as I was breathing in the cold air. 8 minutes later, I was done - completely out of breath. I just couldn't go anymore. This was going to be much harder than I thought.
The first few months into the spring my running was a bit sporadic. It took me a bit of time to learn to slow down a bit in order to run longer. I made small bits of progress, ran for 10 minutes - then for 15. That May an Inwood resident, 21 year old Julliard student Sarah Fox, was murdered in that park during one of her daily runs. I didn't know many other people who liked to run or who lived by me, so it was somewhat frightening to head out the door alone. They never caught the murderer due to lack of evidence, although they did have a suspect who lived just two blocks from me. At least I knew who to look out for.
By the summer I was running 20-30 minutes comfortably about 3 times a week. It was during this time that I discovered, with the help of my doctor, that I was lactose intolerant. She gave me orders to cut all products out of my diet that contained dairy or lactose for six months. It was difficult but a relief at the same time because I had been feeling sick for so many months. I started reading labels on foods - you'd be surprised at how many processed foods contain some kind of dairy or lactose. All of the sudden, I was only eating vegetables, fruit, chicken, whole wheat pastas and breads - no junk food or drinks what so ever. Between my diet and the running I was doing, my weight dipped down into the 120s which was my weight during my peak dancing days (at 5'8" being around 130 is actually healthier for me).
The summer of 2004 was good for me - I felt great, I found a new job with a hefty increase in salary, I took the summer off from grad school to regroup, and I really enjoyed running. The summer ended and so did my good fortune. A new school semester kept me busy as did the stress of working for a less than pleasant new boss. As the stress piled on, the running become a bit more infrequent. I was agitated and feeling unhappy - a somewhat promising long-distance relationship fell sour. The biggest blow of all was receiving a phone call from my OB/GYN telling me I had cervical cancer. The late fall and winter days were dark, both figuratively and literally. I was exhausted. I felt so alone. The early days of my newfound love of running came to end and for the next few months, it was difficult enough just to get myself out of bed in the morning, let alone get out there in the cold for a run.
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