Team

Runners are funny. We have eccentric habits, follow seemingly absurd schedules, spend an uncanny amount of mental energy on running, even and especially when we aren't running. We have more running clothing than work, dressy, and every-day clothing, combined, and some of us have running clothing that can fit into all of those categories. And let's not even start on the shoe ratios.

What is most interesting to me is that we are also, at some point or another, the most flagrant hypocrites. Look at how I am right now we behave while injured. When discussing injury with a fellow runner or an athlete that we coach, we are Buddhas. Masters of our craft. Knowledgeable, encouraging, laden with sound advice and Yoda-esque perspective.

Listen to your body.
Cross train with something you enjoy, and you'll bounce back refreshed.
Time off now will repay you with strength later.
We've all been there. Don't worry, you'll be running again before you know it.

But when discussing an injury with ourselves, in our own heads, we go from Buddahs to babies: tears, fears, and a complete lack of perspective. Rarely rational, often inconsolable. No matter how much encouragement we hear, or temporary the setback until we return to our racing flats again, we wallow in despair over the loss of our morning meditation and our outlet for badass. We likely annoy the crap out of our family and friends, turning from our normal, running-obsessed selves (see above) to...well...running-obsessed cry babies. We sound something like this:

My season is ruined!

I'll never be as fast as I was.

All of my training is gone.

Everyone else is strong and fast, and I'm getting slower!

This hypocrisy is fairly common in the running community; it likely defines all of us at some point or another, maybe not if you've had the good fortune to avoid injury. But another interesting hypocrisy might apply to fewer of us, myself included. 

I have always been a "lone wolf" in my training. This is mostly because running is a personal, quiet meditation time in which I gather my thoughts and see where they take me. It is also because, like most of us, I am a control freak about my training, and probably subconsciously revel in the knowledge that I am building my athletic successes all on my own. Many of you can likely relate. How is this hypocrisy? I, for one, have been a XC and Track coach for 6 years. Building a team has been at the forefront of my coaching, and the benefits of training with others are so very obvious. I can't count how many times I have explained to my runners that running is NOT an "individual sport", as many tend to think of it. Runners depend on each other, in training and in racing, for their mutual benefit.

My chief teammate, and husband, Stephen

So why do I still train alone?

Good question.

I have joined a fantastic community of runners in my job at Fit-2-Run, and so thoroughly enjoy engaging with them on a daily basis. I have also joined the Oiselle Flock, and have already connected with runners from across the country, many of whom I share so much in common with besides the sport, and feel a strong sense of team bond, having not even met - let alone, run with - any of them. The warmth and strengthening I have found in both of these endeavors is such a powerful support network, it makes me re-define my ideas of "team". 

Your team is not necessarily just the people you run with. You could run with a group that you never feel a close, supportive connection to, and they wouldn't necessarily feel like your "team". 

Team is the celebration of running manifested in others.

Being a part of a team is more important to all of us - even the "lone wolf" types like me - than we often realize. I propose that ALL of us work just as hard to build our "team" in our lives as we do when we train. Whether it is an organized group, or your workplace, or family, or just other runners you connect with in whatever ways you do. Build a team. It empowers us, it empowers others, it "lifts us up where we belong", and it just flat-out makes us faster. While I don't think I can totally relinquish my running independence - my "rundependence" if you will - I am going to commit to running at least twice per week with others, be it Oiselle Flock mates or coworkers at Fit-2-Run or St Pete Road Runners or what have you. But more than that, I will continue to boost the connections of running energy in my life. More communicating with other runners, more cheering them on and swapping war stories, more of all of it. Like Will Ferrell's character in Blades of Glory, "that's me, the lone wolf, and that's you, the lone wolf who's running with the lone wolf."

Who's with me?