Easy Ones

Earlier this week I was in Stowe, Vermont for a work conference. It was a quick trip - I left Sunday morning and returned Tuesday evening. The purpose of the conference was to pull state teams together to discuss implementation of federal health reform, so I traveled with some very friendly colleagues - many who I have known for years.

I tucked my running clothes and Garmin in my suitcase, as I always do, and asked the front desk clerk when I checked in if he had any suggested running routes near the hotel. He pointed me a trail a short block from the hotel. Over my shoulder my colleagues were giving me a hard time....

"You're so dedicated!" "You make me feel bad!" "You're trying to make the rest of us look bad!" " I should have known you'd be really disciplined, even when you are on the road."

Early the next morning I set off on the trail for a run. I wish I could accurately describe how beautiful it was. I have never been to Vermont and it was green and lush - the trail wound through a wooded area adjacent to a stream. The village is tucked between mountains, the air was cool, the morning quiet, the town was quaint. I had two wonderful workouts the two mornings I was there.

My colleagues seemed fascinated - asking me each morning how I got up so early, how I was so disciplined, generally treating me as if I'd done something heroic by doing this gorgeous 4.5 mile run two days in a row.

Maybe I am missing something, but to me these runs were easy ones. I was only responsible for myself. I actually got to sleep in a little bit compared to my normal wake up call. The conference provided breakfast. My 'commute' was to walk down the hall. I didn't have take care of my kiddos. I just had to wake up, take a beautiful run, shower and walk down the hall to be fed and discuss health care reform. It felt like a little vacation.

The runs that feel heroic, the runs that test my dedication are the lonely 5:30am runs on a cold morning where I know I have to hurry home to meet the demands of the day. Where I demonstrate commitment to myself are those mornings like this morning when I soldiered through a hill work out on my own, in the dark and thought to myself, "You know, you could just stop at 5 repeats and no one would ever know." But instead I did the 6th and felt buoyed in an inexplicable way as I move into a demanding day.