Friday, August 17, 2012

A Naked Run

A racy title, but it feels like an apt description of the runs I've taken lately.  Since I've chosen to run without my RunKeeper app, I feel quite naked during my runs.  Without that voice (I call her Rita, the name we give all computerized voices in our lives) telling me my total mileage, elapsed time, and average pace, I feel totally exposed.

Cutting the technology cord feels both liberating and terrifying.

I'm going naked these days because I'm refocusing my running.  Since I started running, I've been striving to improve my pace and increase my distance.  Right now, however, I'm more interested in achieving and maintaining a pregnancy.  Though I've never said it aloud, I wonder if my high-mileage month of June in part lead to July's miscarriage.  I've never had very high body fat, and I wonder if the intensity of that month's running tipped the scales just enough to make my body unable to carry the pregnancy.  Maybe, maybe not.  But I can't get the thought out of my head, so I've cut back my mileage and altered my running goals.  No races on the horizon.  No milestone mileage or pace.  I'm running to clear my head and build a strong body that can hopefully carry another baby someday soon.

While I know this is the right choice for me for now, it is a difficult one for my severely Type A brain to accept.  I crave data and love seeing measurable progress and achievements.  I also feel more accountable when I have the app charting my workouts.  I love to see the mileage add up and the pace go down.  Running naked is a tremendous personal challenge, but one that I want to follow for the greater good of my family.

As I've said before, I want to run for life, but I have only a relatively small window of opportunity for expanding our family.  If family goals mean that I cannot run a fall half marathon, then so be it.  There will be other races.  I have plenty of time to set and achieve my running goals.  At this moment, the non-running goals take priority, and I'm okay with that.

So long for now, Rita.