Why Bad Habits Are So Good

It's easy to think of habits in black and white:  either bad or good.  But this summer my bad habits helped save one of my good ones.  Let me explain.  If you are a fairly new runner, like me, you've probably experienced that new-runner's "high."  It feels so great to be doing something so good for you that you throw yourself into it.  You run often, and it takes little motivation to get going.  You enthusiastically bore people around you with your MapMyRun stats.  You create a Pinterest board for running gear.  You step out in the morning or evening for a run with equal enthusiasm.

Then, about two months into it, you go on vacation.  Because vacationing with a two-year-old and a three-month-old is already hard enough, you decide you just won't run that week.  At least that's what happened to me.  But what about the two months I'd spent building up my running habit?  What if it all went out the window? What if this vacation was just the first in a long line of excuses for the rest of the summer?  It won't be, I thought confidently.  For a week I played in the water with my toddler, caught up with cousins I hadn't seen for months, spent long hours on a gliding porch chair feeding the baby, and I ate barbecue chicken and potato salad.  I DIDN'T RUN, AND I DIDN'T FEEL BAD ABOUT IT.  Here's why:

I realized that I am actually quite good at picking up old habits.  I went several weeks without coffee at the beginning of my first pregnancy.  I was strong, determined, and caffeine free.  Then my doctor told me a cup of coffee in the  morning was just fine.  I haven't missed a morning java since!  I had no trouble picking up my habit of dumping laundry on the bed and not putting it away - even after a month straight of folding and tucking it neatly into drawers.  I picked Facebook up again - no problem.  And I've been a successful nail-biter, with only a few lapses, for my entire life!

Wait a minute, you say, those are all BAD habits!  Sure they are.  But they're still behaviors that I've managed to reinstate over and over again, and they can tell me something about the way I view habits in general.  For instance, over the course of my life, I have always put off the most painful or difficult task until last.  As a kid, when forced to clean my room, I made the bed last because it was a pain in the ass to get the sheets tucked in on the wall side of the bed.  If it looked like the next day might be a snow-day, I wouldn't do my homework because I figured I'd have time to work on it cozily in the morning while sipping cocoa and watching the snow fall.  I can't tell you how many essays and papers were written in the wee hours of the morning before they were due.  Just this summer my husband and I began our 8 a.m. road trip at 4:30 p.m. because we figured we'd pack the morning of (FYI - this is just not possible with two little kids).  Yes, I can confidently say that I AM A PROCRASTINATOR.  It's a bad habit that I keep returning to, and I take credit for it.

Now let us take another scenario.  When we were little kids, my mom would lock the doors so that we were forced to play outside during the summers.  (Thanks mom!  No, really, thanks!)  She signed me up for gymnastics in elementary school.  In middle school I played soccer and softball.  I continued softball in high school.  In college I skateboarded and hiked.  Now I find myself hiking and "running."  I have never notably excelled in any of these activities.  Most of them I gave up after a few years.  Usually I compare myself to others in each sport and find myself to be lacking in talent and enthusiasm.  And certainly none of them ever turned me into the slender dELiA*s model I aspired to be in middle school.  What is my point?  That I have a habit of dropping out of athletic activities?  not committing to a sport?  No!  Instead it is proof that I am naturally drawn to athletic activity.  I am an ACTIVE PERSON.  It's a good habit that I keep returning to, and I give myself credit for it.

Have I gone periods in between without being particularly active?  Sure - about as long as I've gone managing my calendar without procrastinating - maybe a few months here and there.  But instead of seeing myself as a fairly active person, I usually just thought of myself as a failure of an athlete.  That's how people can be about habits.  If it is a "bad" habit, we are quick to say that it is a character flaw, even if we slip out of it sometimes.  But if it is a positive behavior, we don't view it as a character strength unless we do it one-hundred-percent, without slipping up.  Thinking about my bad habits changed my perspective on my good ones.  I may be able to stop procrastinating, but it will be HARD.  I will have to work at it ALL THE TIME.  When I decided to take a week off from running I didn't sweat it, because I knew that it would be HARD for me to stop being active.  I would really have to work to not want to hit the pavement in my running shoes again.

I was able to relax, enjoy the time with my family, and give myself a break.  Life is not all-or-nothing.  No one can be perfect all the time.  There will be times when I need to put running aside for the sake of family, or even vacation.  It doesn't mean that I will never return to it.  In fact I haven't missed a workout since that week off.
I tell you this so that you don't do what I often do: hold yourself to a standard of perfection that you may not reasonably be able to reach, and then kick all your progress to the side in guilt and anger when you miss one day.  Give yourself a break.  Next time you feel that you aren't able to keep up your good habits, examine some of your bad ones.  They may give you just the perspective you need to pick up where you left off.

Running With Others

So I've decided to train for a 10k.  Not because I want to run a "10k", but because I figure I should have something to shoot for - a goal with benchmarks and measurable outcomes.  (Normally I hate those phrases because, in my line of work, they are applied to spreadsheets of nameless, numbered children for the purpose of standardizing education).  But for my purpose, it helps me to have something to work toward.  My husband asked me if I am going to sign up for a 10k in the fall at the end of my eight week program.  I haven't decided yet.  I might want to do this just for myself.  Then again, it might be  nice to cross over and actually participate in the community aspect of running.

That is one area where I haven't spent a lot of time - the community of runners.  Sure, I live with a pretty serious runner.  And I have a sister who pounds out miles and miles each week on her bike or in her running shoes.  It's just that I'm not sure I see myself as playing the same sport.  They are playing Wimbledon tennis, and I'm playing backyard badminton.  I like that the only person I'm competing with is myself - it's nice to be so evenly matched.  But I also realize that there is a lot of support and insight to be found out there in "the community."  For example, this past week I heard from three other runners who have dealt with insecurities about people seeing them run.  None of them look ridiculous to me.  It makes me wonder if most runners feel that way from time to time.

It is kind of a raw, exposed sport, after all.  I mean, in other sports the uniforms are downright helpful, with pads and helmets.  If you're scrawny they make you look built.  If you're heavy, they make it look like it's all muscle.  But in running...well, let's just say the attire is less accommodating.  Furthermore, in running it's just you and the road (and everyone who can see you struggling).  When you think about how exposed your fellow runners are, it almost seems selfish not to share your insecurities - to encourage each other.  It's about all you can do for each other.  It's not like you can wear someone else's shoes and run for them when it gets hard.  But you can run next to them.

I guess that's why you see so many people running in groups these days.  Most Sunday mornings, a group of wiry guys meets on my very street for a jaunt up the mountain behind my house.  The other day I had to wait an excruciating five minutes as the town's ENTIRE high school track team bisected the street I was on like so many sneaker-clad ants.  You see groups entering in themed races and color runs.  Even on our own we seek community.  We subscribe to Runner's World and Trail Runner just so we can read about people on the other side of the planet doing something as mundane as putting one foot in front of the other.  My mom sometimes listens to Army cadence while she runs.  It reminds her of running in basic training - running with the pack, if you will.  The shared rhythm and purpose.  The sense that there is, literally, an army behind you holding you to some sort of standard.  I guess that's the value of plugging into the running community.

It still doesn't mean I'm going to run in a race. But I am coming around to the idea of running with other people. Will it be embarrassing to huff and puff behind more fit runners?  Yes.  Will I feel inadequate when they talk about their long runs?  Yes.  Will I collapse after mile three and need to be revived by paramedics?  Possibly.

Luckily I've got a bit of a head start.  I happen to know a few other moms who, like me, have kids, busy work schedules, and a lot of good intentions.  My other sister happens to be one of them.  We've kicked around the idea of starting a mom's running group for a while, and it looks like now it might happen!  Hopefully being a part of a group will help me reach my goals - not only to run 10k, but more importantly, to find the encouragement, inspiration, and camaraderie I see other runners thriving on.  

No Good Time To Run

Running in my neighborhood early in the morning can be a somewhat geriatric experience.  It's sort of like hitting up the mall before it opens on a week day.  You'd think this would make for a great confidence boost for someone returning to running after a nine-moth hiatus.  You might envision yourself breezing past slow-moving octogenarians - a mere streak of moisture-wicking spandex in their diminishing eyesight.  You might think smugly to yourself, "They won't even hear me coming!"

You would be wrong.  These "old ladies" can really truck, and most of them have had Lasik and wear killer hearing aids.  How do I know this?  If they see you coming, or hear you coming from behind, they move kindly over to the inside of the sidewalk.  This happens from about a quarter of a mile away.  You see, they are operating on the flawed assumption that it is a real runner, not a portly post-partum poser, who is about to cross their morning path.

There is nothing more humbling than watching someone's great-grandmother bushwhack nobly through overgrown hedges and knowing you won't reach her any time soon.  I feel the urge to call out, "Please!  Don't do it on my account!  I won't be anywhere near you for another ten minutes at least!"

And then when you do get within speaking range, she greets you with a cheery "Good Morning," and you huff back something like "Mornmmph" and continue to run at her for another five minutes before finally passing.  It looks something like this:  

It's not just the early-morning elderly contingent that intimidates me when I run.  In fact there is NO good time to go running in my neighborhood if you are an overweight amateur who wants to save face.  

Mid-day is too hot.  If I look funny huffing and puffing at six in the morning, that is nothing compared to the glorified walk I deteriorate to in the heat - sweat pouring off of my body as I careen by onlookers at a zippy 20 minute-mile-pace.

Afternoons?  Forget about it.  That's when school lets out.  I am still afraid of high-school girls (I have been since high school).  And the stretchy polyurethane fabric that looks so darn cute on the models in Runner's World looks downright offensive when sported by yours truly.  I wouldn't wear it in front of the popular girls when I was in school...and I damn sure am not going to start now!

But early evening is by far the worst.  The reason for that is because everyone you see out on the road is either a lean, yoga-bodied running goddess with an ipod shuffle wrapped flatteringly around her inexplicably well-shaped bicep, or else a well-meaning neighbor enjoying a beer while barbecuing in the back yard.  And the thing that makes this the absolute worst time to run is that both goddess and griller feel the need to encourage you by calling out, "Good job!  Keep it up!"

Oh the shame.  Even though you know they mean well, you also know they are really thinking, "Geez, is she for real?  She really has her work cut out for her!  I bet she needs all of the encouragement she can get.  I'd better say something positive - just as soon as she gets within shouting range!"

So yeah, there's no good time to run.  It takes a whole lot of willpower and a little boy-band magic to make myself hit the road.  That's right.  I'm not ashamed.  Though they are not NKOTB, One Direction's "You Don't Know You're Beautiful" pumping through my headphones temporarily counteracts the wide-eyed stares I imagine myself encountering as I barrel around corners any time of the day.  There's something about sugary pop music telling you how awesome you are that makes you think, "Yeah - maybe I am awesome!"  And the delusion lasts just long enough for me to complete my two-mile loop ;)