Erin Go Run

Language, according to Ferdinand De Saussure extends beyond the primitive understanding that it consists of a list of signs; a list of words corresponding to the things they name. Instead, he proposed the idea that language, as it pertains to signs, consists of several components on varying levels. The linguistic sign unites, not a thing and a name, but a concept and a sound-image. With that, our words become ideas, and our ideas have meaning. Therefore, the sign (an object or word), together with the signified (its concept) and signifier (sound image), create language.

If we were to apply Saussure’s theory of language into that of running, we might discover the meaning of motivation and furthermore establish a basic understanding of where it originates from. (At the same time, keeping in mind Saussure’s argument on conformity to reality, this association of motivation is mine, so some might disregard this as imagined.) Finally, motivation will bring us back to the root of why I run.

As it applied several weeks ago, motivation had no meaning to my running. It was another word applied, but largely disconnected, to the mindless struggle of placing one foot in front of another at a rate which would redefine “run” to mean nothing. My actions of running held no regard for that which it should have meant to me; I could hardly understand running, as I was dislocated from what it meant in San Diego.

But to define my recent spark of motivation, scholars would argue that I simply acquired the linguistic understanding of motivation. In other words, I connected the sign, motivation, with its signifier, a conceptual understanding of my potential, with the signified, the sound-image of my motivation; “Yeah,” by Usher.

Motivation, as a concept, requires an understanding of one’s potential. The existence of a threshold in which to constantly strive for offers the concept of motivation to meet that threshold. Motivation, therefore, is a conscious effort to defy that runner’s potential, either meeting or surpassing it. In doing this, the signifier of working to that potential requires with it a signified sound-image in order for Motivation to exist as a sign.

Upon the initial beats of “Yeah,” the sound-image becomes a part of the concept of relating the conscious effort to defy my threshold of running with the now defined sign, running. Therefore, with Usher and motivation “run” becomes understood linguistically, allowing me to do that which I apparently hadn’t been able to do before- run.

Motivation is a runner’s best friend, and also worst enemy. When motivation is high, running is phenomenal. When motivation is low, there is nothing but time it seems until that motivation returns. It would seem obvious at this point (being as my last blog post in June was a missed marathon race) that my motivation has been on the down and outs in the last couple of months. When I moved to Omaha for graduate school, I was excited for a change, but not in my running. I am slowly realizing that I had taken San Diego for granted and the complaints about city running, the asphault, the hills are all very much missed as I struggle to do 30 minute runs.

Some of this lack of motivation I attribute to the fact that Omaha doesn’t know me as the runner (yes, those countless runner jokes and nicknames at eVisibility are highly missed). To most people I meet out here, I am the quiet English student, the California girl, or the distant cousin however many times removed. If no one expects me to run, of no one expects me to be the motivator, then doggone it, I ain’t gonna run. And at times, I do that. Instead of going one or two days without running before going crazy, I struggle to run every 3 or 4 days.

Until this week; and this is my challenge more than my motivation. I have designed a calendar upon which I have color-coded my runs. Any run lower than a certain time or number of miles will be colored red; anything over a certain goal will be green, and something in between will be orange. Thus, taking advantage of the last days of Fall, I will bring those colors to my running calendar.

*As my motivation increases, I hope also that my blog posts do as well. There is so much to write about in my experience in Omaha; it’s a shame for anyone to miss it (especially myself).

It’s a hard thing to get over. I went along as if everything would go smoothly. I didn’t plan ahead and I waited until the last minute to try and make it work. Many would say it’s my fault. But when I look back and think about the bib number that was supposed to be mine, I just feel empty and a large void in my heart fills with bitterness. Racing is that one relationship that you have where everything is somewhere between a happy comfortable and an obligatory love. On a day to day basis, you look ahead to the race with an eagerness to build as much strength and confidence in it, but once the process of going through it gets underway you begin to learn about those nagging little details that make it a little tough to handle at times.

I’ve never missed a road race that I signed up for. I’ve shown up slightly buzzed, with little or no sleep, and even found myself in a port-o-potty when the gun went off in more than one instance. But I’ve never missed a race, let alone made a decision not to go… until Seattle. And not running it feels like a bad breakup. Seeing results, reading blogs, and hearing about it ignite a deep tearing feeling deep in my gut making me angry at the world but even more at myself for effing it up and not putting more effort into it.

And then I begin to feel regret. If I had done just one thing different; purchased a plane ticket further than one week in advance, I might have had a better shot at going. And I can’t forget about the void that I had to try and fill all weekend; which failed miserably. I tried to go out and run a long 17 mile run to try and mimic the pain of the race, but instead I lied in bed and felt bad for myself. Finally, to make it all worse, I looked up the results of the race and saw that I might have placed in the top 25 females (assuming I at least tied my previous marathon time). If that wasn’t “just kick you in the crotch, spit on your neck fantastic,” I don’t know what is.

My running, like my blogging, has been down lately. In my attempt to find an excuse that explains the rut I have gotten into, I have only to blame myself. But at the end of the day, running is a roller coaster; you’ll get into and out of ruts, just like everything else in life. Shit happens. But just to give you a rundown of the excuses I have run (no pun intended) through, I hope that you will take these into consideration should you ever find yourself making the same excuses… (more…)

Giving up has never been something to boast about, but it faces us at certain times in our lives and challenges us to either stand up to it and succeed or let it overpower us and mark us with defeat. About one year ago, I faced not my biggest failure, but definitely had some challenges that tried damn hard to make me fail. In the end, I probably did. But now I have a second chance. Even though I am much happier now than I was a year ago, it doesn’t make me feel any more prepared for something like success.

Last year at this time I had just broken up with my boyfriend and was avoiding the task of learning how to move on. We had been on the verge of the outs for an amount of time, so it could be considered an expected event. Learning to be alone though, that is never something that you can prepare for. Training-wise, I not only set my expectations so high, but I set them as if I knew I would fail. I hadn’t trained for the race, thinking that I could run another 3:27 like I did the first time. I guess I didn’t figure in a time prediction that added a minute per pound that I gained since then.

Thinking back to the race not only defeats me, but it puts me right back in the heartbroken and slower spot that I finished the race in. I hung my finisher’s certificate on my wall, forcing me to read it every day; forcing me to remember what I did to deserve that. Sometimes it can pump me up, but mostly it disappoints me.

This year should be different. I have reconciled with boyfriend, and we maintain a strong friendship that should motivate me this year instead of crushing me like last year. I have been training more and more, some mileage increase but mostly intensity. As I prepare to set this year’s expectations, I think back on the mistakes I made last year and how I have changed in order to hopefully avoid the same outcome. I still have my expectations set up for defeat, but with the prior knowledge of it. I don’t learn from all of my defeats, and I don’t always improve or succeed the second time. But I do get to go into it in a better mental and physical state; and that gives me hope.

I really challenged myself this morning; I ran from my house in Solana Beach to work in Carlsbad. While I mainly told myself that it would just be a nice long run, deep down I knew that I was testing my fitness and seeing if I stood a chance to run an hour-and-a-half, half marathon come April. Starting off I felt unstoppable; much like you would feel anytime you are preparing for a challenge (whether it is a marathon race or a run at the beach on your lunch- again, thanks guys). I had certain points picked out to check my watch and get a feel for my pace. Within thirty minutes I was already running through Cardiff. I was on pace for one hell of a run!

Getting prepared for a run like this I had to make the run much less intimidating; Solana, Encinitas, Leucadia, College Hill, work. All I had to do was run from point to point. This stop sign, that light; couple hills, you got this, E. I had some jelly beans in the little pocket of my running tights and my iPod to keep me distracted. I was chugging along, waving at passer bys, enjoying the view….

…and then i got hit with lack of motivation. I am not sure what to attribute it to; the mini streets where cars don’t think about pedestrians, bikers and traffic trying to share lanes with me, or just fear that I still might not make a good time it if I kept this same pace. I contemplated calling co-workers to come pick me up; I stopped at stoplights just to stop (most runners run lights when they can); and worst of all began thinking about this performance in a marathon, let alone a half!

By the time I got within two miles of work, I had managed to re-energize myself to make it up the mile-long College Hill. Arriving at work, fatigued and disappointed, I had clocked the same damn half-marathon time that I have been running for years; STILL unable to break it. Walking into the office, I had the admiration of co-workers to lift my spirits and to take the run positively. As many of yesterday’s team members approached to talk of sore muscles and lactic acid, I immediately smiled as I knew in a matter of minutes I would have those same complaints….

… at lunch, Tyler asked; “So you think you’ll ever run from your new place in PB?”

… Wonder what the title of that blog post will be…

Brushing your teeth, putting on sunscreen, running your scheduled run… something we all appreciate after its done; but it never fails that we will try our damndest to talk ourselves out of it before going through. When I plan out a run, I begin it sometimes with a negative perspective. Sometimes I am even thinking negatively before I even think about the run. It’s too ambitious, I won’t have time, someone might be calling me and I will miss the conversation, etc. etc.

It is one of the biggest challenges of running; to stick to your plan, go out, and potentially have the run of your life. It’s much easier to shorten it, run it at a slower pace, or to not even run it at all (if, suppose, you are starving at the time and would rather just eat instead). Every runner knows that after a short warm-up, any doubts will disappear and they will feel better about the run, stick to their original plan, and be happy after the run. But how many of us actually think that far in advance when we are putting our running shoes on? 

If you find yourself doubting how a run will go, how you will do, or whether you even want to do it, a simple trick that running magazines won’t tell you is to SUCK IT UP. Think about the blacked out/ missed workout on your calendar. Or better yet, think about the starving children in Africa that– (just kidding- Bless their poor hearts). If that doesn’t work, another trick is to think about the halfway point and getting there. Once you get halfway, it is just a countdown until you are done. In the end, the point is to challenge yourself to beat your negativity. You never know; you could surprise yourself with a good run (it works for me, anyways).

1. Run a 1:30 half-marathon

2. Run sub 3:10 marathon

3. Run in another country

4. Re-Implement 4-minute “no more flub six pack club” abs

5. Apply for grad school

*This is for my own sake. So I have them written somewhere- help if you wish.

You might not have the energy, but you definitely feel like the shit after finishing a race…. here is how I would write one of these blogs after running. (I wish I could say that I wrote this on my own)

 The first run biznack brotha a marathon is like… well, like yo first run. I rememba mah fiznirst cross country practice . I started yo shit and i’ll end yo’ shit. I came ta practice in some Fizzle tennis shoes, think’n they wizzy good enough runn’n shoes coz they were tha sportiest shoes I had cuz Im tha Double O G. I was doing tha short rizzle which was `bout a 10 minute warm-up, stretch, n thizzen a 10 minute run bizzy ta school. I didn’t “know” how ta run, so I put one fizzle in F-R-to-tha-izzont of tha otha, stared dizzay at mah shadow, n curled mah arms up in fear that I might look like I don’t knizzay how ta run. I couldn’t quite git a steady rhythm yeah yeah baby. My legs were runn’n a muck n mah breath’n, oh man, I fizzay like I was blow’n out candles but had ta do it only breath’n out mah nizzle , chill yo. I thought thizzay if I had ta breathe in n out of mah grill that thugz would kizzle thiznat I didn’t know ho ta run . Ya fuck with us, we gots to fuck you up. `bout 2 minutes into tha rizzun, I was breath’n heavily, dragg’n mah feet, n want’n ta gizzle up straight from long beach nigga. Thizzat seems like just yesterday fo’ real.

Wait, it was in all flavas. I ran fo` tha first tizzy this week, n felt like I didn’t know what I was do’n. I tried ta run brotha than mah last few miles of tha marathon, but who knows if I really was. Probably not now pass the glock Anotha dogg house production.. I riznan, did tha usual run shiznit. I even timed it! But it was awkward n ended up being a rizzle blingin’ with my hoes on my side, and my strap on my back. It was gonna takes time until I gots back into it.

Everyone has that one indulgence in their lives that gives them a sense of escape from the pressures of being someone in society. For some, its chocolate ice cream with sprinkles. Others like to indulge in a corny-love-story-with-a-sappy-ending movie. Smokers, I will even excuse you and allow your addic- indulgence to be yours. For me, its rain; particularly running in the rain. Like the sugar high or relaxation that comes from chocolate ice cream or a cigarette, I get both when I run in the rain. It’s almost as if the rain separates me from every dreary aspect of my life and allows me to be in my favorite solitary state. 

I go through many thoughts and feelings when I run in the rain. At first I get excited that a rare day has come that it will rain (born and raised in SoCal, I will face the stereotype and agree that it doesn’t rain as much as in other places). The excitement is shortly overtaken by an uncomfortable feeling. It is always uncomfortable getting wet when you weren’t planning on it or expecting it. That feeling is quickly washed away as I am soaked from head to toe and all I have left to do is to keep running. Finally, I have to get over the fact that people driving by in their heated, dry cars will probably think I am a nut for running in the rain. And from that point on, it’s just me running in the rain.

It finally rained the other day, and I took that to my advantage and, well, I ran. Most people use the rain as an excuse of why they won’t be able to work out. I use it as an excuse to do more.   I ran, got drenched, felt like people thought I was crazy, and enjoyed every step of the run. Indulge in your chocolate ice cream if you want to, I am going for a run.