The Two-Mile Run

The two-mile run has always been an important run to me. It's the distance I've always started back at after each running furlough I've taken. It's the distance which I've always felt was the threshold between possibly quitting running within the next couple of weeks, and potentially running a marathon. The few times in my life that I have crossed paths with people who are even less experienced at running than I am (and these people are very few and far between), I have asked, "How far are you running now?" Seems like the reply is always two miles. And I say, with the self-righteous tone that could only be compared to that of one taken by a reformed smoker speaking to a "non-reformed" smoker (not that I am either), "If you can run 2 miles, you can run a marathon." Of course, I never could say this from experience until this past Sunday, but I had a pretty good idea.

Forcing myself to keep it at two miles at a slow pace as I am doing this week reminded me of the reason I started running in the first place--I simply wanted to be healthier-maybe lose a little weight too. No marathons (or half-marathons), no pace goals, no Garmins, no Gu. I ran in such an undisciplined manner, never even realizing the significance of the seemingly random number 26.2. And I did so in a heavy old pair of Nike cross-trainers that had who knows how many miles on them. And it was fun.

Now don't get me wrong: I love the feeling I get from hitting the 20 mile mark or by training at a faster pace. I wouldn't trade in my Garmin for anything (except maybe an upgrade), and I know that those Nikes were just bad news, but during the next few weeks, I really do want to focus on recapturing the feeling I had back when I ran simply to run, not to race. No doubt, when this 26-day period of recovery ends, I'll be anxious for speed and distance again (at least as much as an old guy like I am can attain). But for this week, I'm going to embrace the two-mile run.