There are always natural changes in friendships: new friendships form, old ones might fizzle a bit; people go through phases when they are really close, then maybe they drift apart for a while and get really close again. Well, this year has been no different: I am sad that I have drifted apart from a couple of close friends but hope that we will find our ways back to where we used to be again. On the other hand, I have met some really great people and made new friendships and hope that those will accompany me along the way wherever that might take me.
One such new friendship stands out, and this excerpt from Kristen Armstrong's (ex-wife of Lance, mother of 3 out of 5 of his children) blog on Runner's World inspired me to think and write about it today:
All this to say that we should choose our running partners wisely, because they become our friends and eventually become like family, and then we grow old together.
Maybe instead of dating (which I dislike and quite probably am terrible at–I don't do it often enough to know for sure) which has hefty implications of looking for marriage material, I should think of it more like choosing a running partner. You know, more casual. Trying a short run first, so there is no time commitment if our paces don't match or conversation falls flat. Then if that goes okay, maybe a longer run, or another short run with coffee afterward, eventually leading to breakfast. Over time we might have a regular meeting time, a standing run. If I sometimes opted to run with him over my sweat sisters, some eyebrows would lift, but in a good way. We can talk and run side by side, sharing more personal things without the added weight of eye contact. We can tackle some hills, and see how it feels to suffer and say nothing, taking turns with a pull. We could disagree, run off steam, try to talk about it later, post-sweat, when we are both better people. We could take a big step, and sign up for a race together–in the future. This makes the assumption that there is a future, or at least the potential to visualize one, and we could come up with a plan. We could train together. We could mix up long runs, easy runs, hilly runs, interval runs, tempo runs. We could see good days and not so good days. Eventually the newness would wear off and then we'd get to see the good stuff –the moods, the grouch, the sullen, the snippy, the uncertain. But it would be bearable, because we would be moving in the same direction. We would give each other the gift of time. It would always be okay, because there are always more miles.
That's what I'm thinking for me. (Santa, are you listening? I've been a pretty good girl this year.) A running partner (can you make him smart and cute and tall with a killer sense of humor?) who eventually becomes a friend. Which later feels like family. And then we grow old together.
Last year, Santa was very good to me and I did have the fortune of meeting my smart cute tall and good humored running partner and almost exactly the way Kristen describes she imagines this friendship to develop, we had become regular running buddies and friends. We met on a short run through Central Park for the first time, then the next time we ran together, we got coffee and breakfast afterwords and eventually signed up for many races together. On good days, we laugh often, on hard ones, we run silently next to each other; somehow just the presence of a partner next to me makes it easier to get through the tough hills and the icy rain.
After the NYC marathon, my running buddy went on vacation for more than 2 weeks and I was forced to run by myself during that time. While there are some days I love to and need to run alone, there are other times when I miss having a partner. So as soon as we were both back in NY, we met for an evening run: chilly, windy, cloudy night, but I was craving it so much after spending the holiday weekend almost completely inside and running on a treadmill. It felt so good, every step was pleasant, I only realized I had been running for almost 2 hours when my butt started hurting and I looked at my watch. How great these runs are, telling stories, laughing, not even noticing the time flying by. I missed him!
In short, we have become friends for which I am thankful and I hope that we will have the chance to grow old together - while running many more races beside one another.
2 comments:
I must admit that the excerpt and your words really made an impact. Not the 'awwww' when the cute bear commercial comes on tv, or you hear a baby laugh hysterically, but an internal echo and justification of what may or may not be lacking within my life. (Most of the time) it all comes down to connection. Within ourselves, nature, and to others. I can re-enter more of society with a more confident attitude. Not that i'm in fear of people(in general)...well, there are alot of retiree's here in Tucson (kidding...kinda). My goal to climb/hike/jog/run/sprint the upper (telephone-line trail) of Sabino Canyon completely and return to my 45 minute record can happen the more i come into contact with pure responses such as yours.
You possess a planet of talent, intelligence and excessive kindness that is extremely rare, very rare. When my hope seems to bleed somewhat, i can re-fill by those words, pure energies, and face the challenges again.
Santa's got the phone off the hook again, thankgawd for speed-dial.
It will happen.
Know in your heart and soul that it will happen, that you can make that next mile, hill, and pack of nuns on skateboards!!
My few delicate moments to myself here at a Friday workday on break to write a few silly words and random-vagueness to convey my appreciation for what you bring to le' blog, chin-up, empower, and keep doing what you're doin.
So Julie, will you run with me in good times as well as bad times, in rain and shine, when my hearing goes "Whaddayasay?", my vision gets shady, and my steps get shaky? Because I will be there :)
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