The Grit of Running

"If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them." - Henry David Thoreau

Running long distance requires heart, passion and sheer discipline.  Like everything else in life, in order to cross daunting seemingly far away finish lines, every endurance runner practices again and again. We experience disappointments, fatigue, exhaustion, pain, but every day we go out there again to try again. Training for a marathon can take up to six months, and often we do not see results of our efforts until very close to the race.  Like everything else in life, we have to work hard, train harder and work through failures, but in the end we discover that we are better for it.  Too much in life is built on illusion.  We do not always get our dreams, and life is too short to discover all the things we want to be. 

Running is real. There is really not much use to color ourselves in pretense, to market ourselves as something we are not.  Either we make honest assessments of our capabilities, or we have to learn honesty in a painfully hard way.  Through trial and error, we discover who we are and what our bodies are made of. We test our limits and stretch our comfort zones.  

Like everything else in life, crossing finish lines and entering new start lines requires heart, passion, discipline. 

Runner's High

The other day a friend of mine complained that he has been chasing the runner's high unsuccessfully for a little over than a year now.  I was astonished.  One of the reasons I am addicted to running and run almost every day is because of the runner's flush or short-term euphoria I experience towards the end of my run.  

At that time I feel my body and spirit separate, not only am I running faster than before - it is as if something much larger than I is running me.  For a mile, maybe two, I slip into another world.  I float inside a vacuum, where there is no time, fully aware and present of what is going on around me.  This state of elation, of profound happiness and lightness, that we just want to jump high into the air and embrace the whole world is the "drug" causing runners like me to return to the road and trails, day after day.  

Until my friend's remark, it did not occur to me that some runners do not experience these multiple bursts of highs.  At least not on a regular basis.  How do we obtain runner's high?  As it turns out, it may not be that simple.  According to Arne Dietrich, a neuroscientist in Beirut, we are more likely to experience runner's high when we run just a little slower than our 10-K race pace, also called tempo pace.  Slow down more than that, and we don't produce enough stress.  Run faster, and we get overwhelmed by the effort.  

At the right pace, scientists believe, the body releases chemicals, reducing our sensitivity to pain and causing the intense feeling of euphoria during or after the run. That being said, for me the runner's high is not a conscious effort at all, but a byproduct of a longer run.  

Could it be that not everyone experiences it? What is your experience? Feel free to drop me a line.

The Art of Balancing

Some of us are hopelessly addicted to running.  Aside from the obvious stress release, we find comfort in knowing that by dedication (and discipline!), we are taken on a journey of many miles.   It is by training that we become better runners, and I think nicer ones too.  If we do not get to run, we are irritable (translation: unbearable for other family members), and we slog through the entire day, unfocused and moody.  

I see law school as a run.  Six segments, ten weeks, 130 hours a week, over the course of three years.  With all that we have to compartmentalize in a very short amount of time, it is easy to lose track of why we applied to law school in the first place. Now in my second year of law school, with the enormous pressure of grades and performing well, I was beginning to lose sight of my goals.  

It was my mother, who reminded me today, that I had a much larger responsibility than excelling on paper.  "Don't forget, she said, why you fell in love with the field of law in the first place.  You are doing this, so that you can be a great and dedicated lawyer someday." 

Go Like Never Before - Skechers Performance

I have run approximately 4,500 miles in Skechers Performance shoes.

My 10th model of GoRun Skechers Performance, 2015.

I first came in contact with Skechers Performance in January 2013.  I entered a shoe retailer to find an alternative for my somewhat athletic-looking high school P.E. shoes, dusting away in my closet since the late 90’s.  Preferably the replacement shoes had to be black, in my size, and affordable.  Little did I know about gait, arch support, grip, or trending wear.  Happy to have found black shoes that fit and were reasonable in price, I walked out just minutes later.  ‘Twas my first pair of Skechers.

During my first marathon race, the M strike featured, Resalyte-cushioned, lightweight Skechers Performance Gorun helped me cross the finish line without incident.  (Just to be sure, I did get my shoes blessed by a Messenger outside the LA Cathedral the day before.)  Since then, I chose Skechers Performance shoes over other brands. 

Every once in awhile, running friends react surprised: “You are running in Skechers!” they would exclaim.  Many think of Skechers as an urban streetwear sneaker, born out of the Californian surf culture of the late 1970s/early 1980s, purchased late summer and worn for the first day back to school. 

But the Los Angeles-based business, launched in 1982 and headquartered in Manhattan Beach, has achieved prominence across the global endurance sports market.  Currently, its Performance footwear division, represented by marathon elites Karsa Goucher and Meb Keflezighi, is gaining fast popularity among athletes of all calibers.   

This is my second year as LA Marathon Ambassador, and I could not be more pleased to run the 2016 Sketchers Performance Los Angeles Marathon in Skechers Performance shoes.  

#golikeneverbefore #unitedla

The Natural Path

I am surrounded by talented and dedicated runners, who inspire me in their own way:  Some are astonishingly fast, some have run more races than I probably will in a lifetime, some have defied "senoritis," some run 100 miles in just under twelve hours and others keep running.

My fall results from the Mount Wilson Trail.

Today, however, I want to take the opportunity to thank Mike, also known as the ungirtrunner, and Jimmy for introducing me to trail running.  Back in May, when I started running trails, I was ten pounds heavier, had knee issues, and barely covered four miles before being out of breath.  Unaccustomed to trail running, I stumbled countless times, and even fell down flat on my face, tearing through a pair of running shoes. 

Still, I returned to the trails every day.  The trails, for the most part, are shady and cool.  Four huffing 'n puffing milers became 8, and then 10.  At first I wore long pants to ward off all the ticks lurking in the bushes, waiting to sink their heads into my skin.  After a few days though, I switched over to running shorts, and a few days after that, I stripped my shirt down to a sport bra.

I stopped tracking my time, which consistently reported inaccurate results thanks to the no-signal GPS on switchbacks, instead I now focus on the natural scenery enveloping me.  Deer,  coyotes, even a small black bear have already crossed my path.  I observe the prints and tracks that walked, hopped or glided before me.  Occasionally the trails would be interrupted by rivers flowing across, and now I 'know' what river stones in the river I need to take to get to the other side, taking joy in perfectly calculated leaps and touching back down on the loose dirt without losing a beat.  

Running across twigs, pebble rocks and loose earth, and doing so with ease, no longer stumbling nor falling, is an exhilarating experience, and it has changed me this summer.  I know I will miss the trails when the days become shorter and the nights longer.  Mike and Jimmy, thanks for inspiring me and introducing me to the natural path.