I was asked recently why I run. Hmm. Sometimes I wonder that myself.

The answer is complicated. It goes beyond one explicit reason, and branches out to a myriad of unexpected observations.

What started out as a quest to increase the intensity beyond walking has turned into a love/hate relationship. Read here and here for more.

I’ve been in a strange season the last few years. I (sort of) enjoy running (some of the time). The competitive fire of yesteryear has tamed. My mile pace per minute isn’t as important to me and I dread any day with a distance of more than six miles. Will I ever feel competitive again? Honestly, I don’t know.

The upside is thanks to finding more balance in my workouts and running less, my body hasn’t felt as beat up as it used to. Last June’s Jogas, where I quit everything but yoga, was a beautiful respite.

1. Friends

This is easily the strongest aspect that keeps me lacing up my Brooks and heading outside. I’ve had some of the most authentic and vulnerable conversations while running. There is something about getting shoulder-to-shoulder, pounding the pavement (hopefully lightly) amidst those exercise endorphins that brings out the REAL. Real talk, real emotions, real issues. In fairness, walking does this as well. And trust me … I’m begging to walk sometimes.

Currently, I have two running partners. I began with one of them when my current 8th grader entered kindergarten. For eight years we’ve caught up with a weekly Tuesday morning run. This is our only communication – rarely do we even text except for the Monday night “Run tomorrow?” confirmation. I cherish and protect this time, even though we get a little lazy when it’s too cold. Sometimes we walk, other times we run. We don’t push each other. We simply enjoy our time. It’s perfect. (Except we’ve never taken a picture so I can’t share her with you.)

The other is a new friendship of about eight months. I don’t know if it’s our matured season or the dark pre-sunrise runs (probably a combination), but we seemed to instantly peel back about six layers of fluff and get right to the meat. Oh, the honest and raw conversations we’ve had over the miles of pavement. I just can’t even describe their (and her) value.

Physiologically, she’s a stronger runner than I am. Without realizing it, she pushes me ever so slightly. She lets me take walking breaks and swears she’s happier walking with a friend than running alone. God bless her.

This reflection on running friends probably deserves its own post. So many of my dear local friendshis are spent on the sidewalk. I think I’ll table the rest of the thoughts and expand later. The bottom line: If not for my friends, I probably wouldn’t still be running.

2. Faith

God supports me running. I’m convinced of that. When I’m out on my own, I’m really not by myself. I pray. I listen. I open myself up to what he may be trying to tell me but my mind is too cluttered to hear.

Every now and then, God gives me these moments that I can only describe as sharing his glory with me.

A shooting star.

Sun rays bursting through the tree canopy.

A vibrant sunrise.

Sometimes I receive clear direction on an issue I’ve been dealing with. In these moments I clearly feel his presence.

I wrote previously about how running is like blackjack and that big win keeps me heading out the door. Honestly, these moments with God are kind of like my own little Vegas-like hit. (Why do I have SNL’s Church Lady in my head telling me I’m a sinner for talking about God and Vegas in the same breath?)

These God-breathed moments don’t happen with every run … far from it … but I get them often enough to keep heading out, hopeful for more.

3. Food

Specifically, carbs. I mean … I love them. Running justifies my oatmeal and sometimes a piece of cake.

Food is life-sustaining. It’s also fuel. Sometimes I get it right and some days I’m glad I have four miles under my belt to give me grace for my overindulgence.

4. Finish Line

And the start line. And the miles in between those lines, however far they may be.

For me, that’s preferably 3.1 and maxes out at 13.1 miles. Others enjoy 26, 50, and beyond (what? why?). I found emotional tears streaming down my face in the first half mile of the last race I participated in. I don’t even know why. The energy and enthusiasm of the runners and spectators touch me.

The race environment is like no other, even if you’re not racing. It doesn’t matter where you fall in the results, stepping over that finish line brings accomplishment and joy (not to mention post-race food – see #3).

5. Fido

Or more specifically, my dog Grace. (I just wanted to stick with the “F” theme.) Read more of her story here.

A leash jingle pops her up from being sound asleep in about half a second. She’ll nudge my hand when she wants to go faster and I swear she looks over at me and smiles.

The joy she receives from simply moving and being outside is an attitude I try to emulate.

This certainly isn’t a comprehensive list. It does capture the biggest aspects.

As I review my words, I realize that even when I’m cursing with another “F” word during a tough run, it’s still worth it.

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