The G Running Diary

Why I Run: 12/28/04

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The other day I realized a piece of my ultra roots. I drove a different way home because I was meeting my boss in downtown Palo Alto. I took the Sand Hill exit off of 280, and as I headed toward Stanford Shopping Center, I remembered that I had run this road before, many years ago.

I was not a runner. Running was this nasty thing that the ex-marine PE teacher made us do, while he took sadistic pleasure in our groans and complaints. He had a run called "The Short," which was longer than anything we'd run before, and then threatened us with "The Long." But, his runs three times a week had kept me fit through junior high. In my last couple years of high school I had no PE and no after school sports. In the summer I ran occasionally. One day I thought, wouldn't it be cool if I could run from my house all the way to Stanford? I often drove there to shop, so I knew the route. I didn't have a good concept of miles. The runs I had done previously were very short. 20 or 30 minutes and not on a regular basis. It usually made me feel sick. But on this run I had a destination. I know it took me a long time, and I walked and ran. When I arrived, I danced around the parking lot, yelling and flinging my arms in the air. And then after that great moment of euphoria, I sobered up and realized I had to get home. And it was all uphill. I headed back and made it on my own two feet. As it turns out, according to Yahoo maps the round trip was 12 miles. I was 16 years old at the time.

Today, one of the things I like about the ability to run is stepping out the front door and seeing where I can go. I liked being able to get from my door to the mountains. The only real limit seems to be time.