An Open Letter to the 3-Mile Run

Dear 3-mile run,

First, let me apologize for every nasty thing I've said to you and about you for the past several years. Ours has been a volatile relationship and I take full blame. I put you on a pedestal when I first started running. You were the ultimate goal, a distance I couldn't even imagine covering at a sustained run. I worked diligently through my couch to 5K program, celebrating my progress in tenths of miles. Then that first 5K race came. Again, my fault. In retrospect starting the South Beach diet two weeks before the race was probably not a good idea. Those two carb-free weeks did not serve me well when you and I met on the course. I blamed you, felt you had sucker-punched me then kicked me while I was down. Time has softened my emotions and cleared my head and I realize now that you were just being you, challenging but not punishing. I look back at that race and am grateful for the lessons it taught. Mainly, four scrambled eggs are not good pre-race fuel. But also: I am stronger than I think I am; I have hidden reserves; and, when the running gets tough, stop thinking, put your head down, and power through.

Now, as I train for this marathon, I see you in a new light. Instead of a goal you have become a nuisance. Why bother getting sweaty for something that won't even last thirty minutes? I trust you are still an important distance because all the experts say so but I'm running on pure faith. In order to make you worthwhile I've embraced the mantra "Go hard or go home." From that first step I push with everything I have until the Garmin ticks 3.0. (Well, 3.10 actually--if I'm doing three miles I'm at least making it a 5K.) So I run, panting, grunting, wincing, until the distance is done. Every second hurts. Every step involves some level of pain.

I've thought about abandoning you, maybe going to the gym and cheating with the elliptical instead. But this marathon is too important and if Mr. Higdon says I have to hang with you then hang with you I will. Which brings me to where I am today. It's time to make ammends and start anew. I met you this morning with open mind and open arms and you responded in kind. We shared those 27 minutes as long-lost friends reunited. I asked for hills and you showed me three doozies. I dug deep and ran from the gut; you rewarded me by having it end quickly.

Friend, we have many more journeys ahead of us between now and October. My vow is to try to embrace each new meeting with a postive outlook, to celebrate the shortness of your distance and the challenge it provides to enable me to grow as a runner. I will continue to give you all I have and I will honor your length by not secretly trying to turn you into a 4 or 5-miler.

Yours truly,
Runner Girl


Today's miles: 3
Total miles: 19