All About the Fun

"All about the fun" - Mike Glennon

It was dusk already when I set out Wednesday evening to check out a nearby athletic field as a possible site for long intervals. It had been a long, hot day, with temperatures reaching ninety degrees, and our team had raced earlier in the afternoon. Everyone was pretty wiped out, including me, even though all I had done that day was jog from spot to spot on the course, monitoring things and yelling encouragement.

It probably didn't help my energy level that we had lost our first meet of the year, and that by a single point. Running in the twilight was helping me sort out what I had learned from the meet, and I was thinking about how the team might use the experience to improve.

I ran along at a moderate pace, keeping a watchful eye on the cars full of people returning home after their day's work. I ran past the Concord commuter rail station a few minutes after a westbound train stopped to disgorge commuters from the city. I turned down a quiet residential street with people out walking with kids and dogs. I turned down another dead-end road and found the open area I was seeking. In the gathering dark, a soccer team was doing final post-practice stretching on one of two fields. I set out on a path that circled the fields and encompassed a meadow, thinking about the distance, the footing, the suitability of path for a workout. The moon shone low in the eastern sky. A hum of insects provided background music for my thoughts.

And then, without being aware of any conscious desire to do so, I began to pick up the pace. At first, it was nothing much -- a slight adjustment to my stride barely noticeable, but as I moved through the thick air, some inner need stirred in me and I started running faster still. I didn't have any plan or purpose. I was not trying to do a workout or a tempo run. It just felt good to stretch my legs, and I wanted more of that feeling. I circled the field once, checked the distance and time, and set out on a second loop. At any moment, I was expecting to lose interest and resume my modest jogging pace, but as I ran, I became more and more keen on running faster.

It was... what is the word I want? ... fun.

I ran about a mile and a half that way, picking up the race with each lap. After 10 minutes of steady acceleration, I welcomed and enjoyed a pause. But after a couple minute of jogging, I felt like I wanted more, so I ran one more lap, this time running it really fast (or what passes for really fast at my age). In the darkness, barely able to see the ground, I felt like I was flying.

...

I find it difficult, at times, to remember, that not everyone experiences running the way I do. I find it hard to imagine that not everyone gets the same pleasure out of moving through space. But, I believe it when people tell me they don't enjoy running, and I observe it when runners settle for a slow, safe pace well within their capabilities.

But ultimately, the key to everything is that running fast is fun, or can be. And if it isn't, then the competitive side of running is probably not for you, because it's just too hard to train to run fast if you don't get any pleasure from it. Of course, being injured, being out of shape, being sick means that the fun is limited or inaccessible, but that's (we hope) just a temporary state of affairs, soon set right with a little patience and persistence.

On our team, we do "fun" things -- group outings, team dinners, t-shirt design, pool parties, etc. But speaking only for myself, I hope our collective definition of fun never completely excludes running alone around an obscure field in the twilight, going faster and faster as the moon rises into the autumn sky.