Running of the Credit Card Variety

It was around the sixth hole when I announced to my foursome that this would be my last round of golf for some time, explaining that I would soon be closeting the clubs and taking to the running paths. The golfers responded with silence, the infidelity of my admission hanging in the air. Running before golf? Sacrilege. The wisest and most accomplished player in our group cocked his chin and looked at me. “The day I start running,” he said, “is the day I see somebody smiling while they’re doing it.”

In this quest to understand why running is often done voluntarily, I have already identified a handful of running’s charms. First, and most obviously, you really do feel better afterward. My mightiest uninterrupted distance to date has been a whopping 1.5 miles, and it has taken ten days to get to that number, but I have already become reacquainted with that welcome headiness produced by thirty minutes of aerobic suffering. You sleep better. Eat better. Beer tastes better. (I know I’m in training, but give me a break—and it really does). I’ve also felt flashes of athletic coolness, bounding around Kelly Drive, zipping past Rocky statue posers, barking out a bossy “On your left!” to pedestrians, only to have them pass me a few minutes down the path as I hold two fistfuls of knee fat and suck for air. But there have been moments, mere seconds, where I felt fleet of foot, a runner within wanting to get out and sprint with the cool kids. Yet what I have found to be running’s most instantly and easily likable side is the simple egalitarian spirit of the whole thing—it’s something of the anti-golf in this regard, a less exclusive, less expensive, less complicated pastime impossible to imagine. But after so many years collecting golf gadgetry, and after so many equipment shopping sprees in search of hope and talent, it made sense that my first step into the runner’s world involved a fit of wanton consumption.

As I’m an absolute track neophyte in a race to become a pseudo-authority, I scooped up the top twenty selling running books on Amazon (I have a book-buying problem as it is, and a new project is a great enabler). So far, I highly recommend Christopher McDougall’s recent bestseller, BORN TO RUN. It combines a running education with a fascinating narrative, following his journey into the remote mountains of Mexico in search of a lost tribe of super-runners who do upwards of 100 miles a day on their bare feet. It’s great motivation, and he’s a Philadelphia guy. Even took my sister to her prom. Seriously. Small world.

I haven’t read it yet, but I’m excited about the title of THE NON-RUNNER’S MARATHON TRAINER, and I’ve been reading from THE RUNNER’S BOOK OF DAILY INSPIRATION, which is just about as hokey as it sounds, but I am getting something out of it. I don’t consider myself a morning affirmation guy, but then again, I didn’t consider myself a sneaker guy, either. GALLOWAY’S BOOK ON RUNNING also seems like a decent primer for us newcomers.

After some satisfying one-click shopping, I proceeded to the Philadelphia Runner’s Store where I entered seeking counsel on running coaches, clubs, gear, etc., but found myself too shy to confess to my endeavor. I declined the help of the svelte team of salespeople, afraid that they wouldn’t believe that a man who looks like he’s in his second trimester was shopping for an upcoming marathon. I quietly handed over the most money I’d ever spent for a pair of socks (Belega Hidden Comfort—for the price, I expected some anti-gravity or trampoline effect, but they are damn comfy), bought a few packages of ShotBlocks (gelatinous cubes of energy goo that got me around Ireland in 2007, in tasty flavors like cranberry and cola), a couple pairs of running shorts (gents, may I recommend a pair with lining, makes all the difference), and a bar of Body Glide anti-chaffing balm (not trying to gross anyone out here, but if you’ve just started running, you might wonder if such a product exists—it does, and it’s magic).

My meatiest investment to date has been the GARMIN 305 FORERUNNER, a GPS enabled training watch with a heart rate monitor (Joe has also picked up a Forerunner—Joe, your two cents?). It’s slightly bulky on your wrist, but it is light and hasn’t bothered me while running. It gives you accurate distance down to the step, so you don’t have to guess or estimate or have that fight with your brain about how far you have or haven’t traveled. The heart rate monitor has also been handy, and when you finish your run, you can upload your watch to a website that tracks all your stats, calories, pace, heart rate, etc., and shows your route on a map. Garmin makes a wide range of these trainers in different sizes and price ranges. I’m not sure it’s worth the money, but it has been good for me in that I don’t have to get to a metered running path to know how far I’ve gone. And it helps you look the part, which is really all I’m after right now anyway. (Another good, and free, option is to use http://www.mapmyrun.com/, which allows you to draw your route on a map, and find out how far you’ve gone.)

It looks like our first group run/get together is going to be on the morning of SATURDAY, AUGUST 22^nd. I’ll get back to you with time and place, but circle that date on your calendar if you get a chance. In the meantime, look into your health/fitness evaluations, try some run/walking if you’re up for it, or just go shopping. That seems to work, too.