Motivation

There are many noble reasons to run: to inspire children, to channel addictive tendencies, to raise money for charity. The running community is filled with amazing people who work to make the world a better place. 

My reasons are a little less dignified. I run because I'm hungry, and I run because I'm vain.

I love to eat. I have no allergies and a diverse palate, so literally everything sounds delicious all the time. Now I could eat hamburgers and tacos without running so much (this is America after all), but then my second motivator comes into play. Since I don't want to weight 300 pounds, I work to strike a balance between calories in and calories out.

This morning I ran eight miles, and promptly followed them up with a hamburger. I have no regrets about my day. 

I use running to supplement my life. Some days it's an hour of reflection, some days a cathartic release, and some days just a good old fashioned calorie buffer. Training can be grueling, so any type of motivation helps. I wish I were motivated solely by splits and PRs, but I'm not. A meal just tastes so much sweeter when it's earned. Bon appetit!

Rain

I love running in the rain. Living in Portland, that's a bit of a necessity. The water makes me feel clean, alert, and powerful. There's no telling where sweat stops and rain starts. Drops of water on my glasses keep my focus short, seeing only what's in front of me. A casual runner may  opt for a treadmill or skip the run to avoid the rain, but I love it. 

The last half marathon I ran was three weeks before I moved from Minnesota to Oregon. It rained the entire day. My fellow racers complained, but I viewed it as an omen that I had made the right decision to move. The rain forced me to focus my thoughts on something bigger than the race. What was I running to? What was I running from? What adventures would I face in this city with so much rain?

I am now less than two months away from my next half marathon. Yesterday I ran eight miles in the rain. I saw only one other runner, and we nodded in solidarity as we passed. Rainy runs are not for the weak of heart. 

As it always does, the rain helped me focus. Eight miles means I have only five more miles to train. I am closer to the finish line than I am to the start. The miles will become exponentially more difficult, but I'm feeling strong, disciplined, and ready for the challenge -- rain or shine.