I Guess I'm A Runner...

They call it Stockholm Syndrome. It’s named after a bank robbery in Stockholm, Sweden. The bank employees, that had been held hostage for six days, became emotionally attached to their captures even to the point of defending them after the ordeal was over. They say that similar events happen in abusive relationships and cults. Our mind, in an effort to cope with something horrible, actually aligns itself with what is apposing it and in result we end up emotionally attached to that which is hurting us.

I’ve always viewed people who say they enjoy running as going through some sort of Stockholm Syndrome. At some point in all our lives we have been forced to run. Whether it was a part of a sports team or in gym class we’ve all had to run. For 99% of us we have the natural response to those horrible experiences… we think they sucked. But for that other 1% their mind doesn’t know how to cope with the horror and in an effort to deal with the pain they convince themselves that what they just experienced was fun.

Maybe I’m going though a psychotic break, but I have a confession to make: I’m starting to like running. Two years ago I made this crazy plan to participate the 2-mile fun run in the Whisky Row Marathon. At the end I thought it would be good to challenge myself for the next couple years and make the annual step from 2-mile to the 10K to the half marathon to the full marathon. Well last year was my 10k year and not being one to bow out of challenges I did the 10k. But honestly I didn’t really do the 10k. I started training about two weeks before the event and walked 90% of the race, only running on the downhill parts. However, this year with the half marathon looming 5 months away I knew I couldn’t put in the same half-hearted effort and hope to finish.

With this in mind about a month and a half ago I started training for the half marathon. Walking only at first and then slowly adding some jogging I was determined to put in my time. However a couple of weeks ago something strange happened. At the end of my run I felt good. At first I denied it to myself… “I’m normal” I told myself “I can’tenjoy this.” But now here I stand declaring to the world… I guess I’m a runner, because I enjoy running. Maybe I’ll be recanting all this in a week, or maybe down the road a counselor will help me recover from this horrible bout of Stockholm Syndrome. But for now I’m putting in about 20 miles a week and finding myself looking forward to my run days and tempted each time out to go further.

Crazy huh?!?!