"WHY I RUN" by A. King

ASD staffer Amy King gave me permission to reprint this piece on running. Amy sees herself as a runner -- she a terrific writer, too! Enjoy.

I love my son, but sometimes I hate being his mom. And so I run. Days like yesterday, when I could barely contain my anger and frustration, I had to run. As I put on my headset, tied my key to my shoelace, glanced at my watch and hit the trail, I could feel the pressure slipping away. When I finished I was calmer, and he had moved on in the cycle of bi-polar. Bi-polar in a 12 year old affects whole families, but mothers take the brunt of the rage.
And so I run.

I haven't always been a runner. Dealing with a bi-polar child was taking its toll. Feeling like I was closer to the edge then I cared to step, I joined a group of women training to walk a marathon. After 3 months, one by one the other's dropped out, and I found myself training alone. To cover the distance required, faster, I started to run. Somewhere along the way I lost 30 pounds. I ran the marathon alone, and finished in 5 hours and 7 minutes.
Marathons are often referred to as social events, but for me it was 26.2 miles of "me" time. It's been almost 2 years now, and I'm still running.

After the marathon it was difficult to find my pace. I was pushing myself too fast and too long. I paid the price with a hip injury. While I was healing, I worried that I would lose the drive to run. For four months I took it easy, running laps in the pool and seeing a physical therapist, only to be told I was wearing the wrong shoes. That's the disadvantage of being a middle-aged woman who takes up running - there's no one to coach you along the way in the simple mechanics. I started back slow. The drive was still there, but it was more controlled, like moving from infatuation to true love. The often uncontrolled push for speed and distance is gone, replaced by an easy stride.

When I started running, I ran with just my thoughts, praying for guidance from my mother, looking for strength. Repetitive words would go round and round in my head. Then I bought a headset. Blaring music drowns out all thoughts. Some runners say they enjoy the quiet time to reflect. I prefer not to replay my day, but rather to put it behind me and lose myself in music. After 10 months of just me and the music, I was ready to move forward and find a running partner. It wasn't easy to find someone who matched not just my pace, but a partner I was willing to put aside my headset for. I found a good friend who is a perfect match, stride for stride. There are still times, though, when nothing feels more right than sliding on my headset and taking off alone.

After two years there are still days when I don't feel like a real runner, days when I show up for a race and everyone else seems to look the part:
long legs, lean build, an air of confidence. It can be intimidating. But then there are days like yesterday. Temperatures were near freezing, and a mix of snow and rain was falling. I couldn't wait to run. Splashing along the trail, my clothes soaked through, I felt complete. These are the times I know I'm a runner - maybe not a racer, but most certainly a runner.

I know there are others like me-others who don't see themselves as racers, but as copers. These are people who handle life's stresses by putting one foot in front of the other. They read how-to books on training, improving time, and eating to run. But in reality it's not about how fast or how far we run, but just that we run, and that we cope with life one run at a time.

I started running for me, but now I run for my kids as well. I tell them I am a much better mom, because I run. My body is healthier, and my mind is able to deal with the daily and often hourly ups and downs of raising a bi-polar child. My goal is no longer to run a marathon, or run faster or longer, but simply to keep running. I have redefined who I am. Not only am I a mother, but I am a runner. And so I run.