Setting intention

“Do you think you’ll run again?”

My attention is pulled from staring out the window. I suddenly can’t remember what we were just talking about.

“After all you’ve had to go through, will you even want to?” my dad asks.

Bless him.

For someone like me, this is a question with only one answer. But many runners get asked this all the time — and in fact, it’s not the first time I’ve had this question (suggestion?) posed to me while dealing with a major injury. It’s akin to the fabled non-runner doctor trope who suggests that you might as well stop running forever because your knee is hurting a little bit ergo running is bad for you. I admit to not being entirely appreciative of the fact that, for much of our population — including our parents, partners, friends, all of whom merely put up with us — running for pleasure is so absurd that most would happily take the get-out-of-jail-free card to never have to do it again. I wouldn’t run unless a bear was chasing me! (a terrible time to opt for running, IMO.)

Asking a die-hard runner if she ever intends to run again is like asking a mom if she’s still interested in momming when her kids come home from summer camp. I can’t imagine life without running. And while I intend to get back out there one day, I am fully aware that it may never be the same again. Training for competition and logging “high” volume mileage might be a thing of the past. And, sure, if I quit the sport today, I’d be reasonably satisfied with what I’ve accomplished. But running is my lifelong pursuit, as personal and purposeful as running a business, or writing a book, or traveling the world. Whether I can run 5 miles a week or 50 does not matter.

But I didn’t have surgery just to come out the other side assuming that I might not have a chance. To say it feels like a new beginning might be a stretch, but the future looks brighter on this side. Many runners have come back from far more invasive and serious procedures to resume their practice stronger and smarter than before. I have to believe that I have a place within that narrative.