To be a better runner …

It may have been a throwaway line during the course of the interview, but it’s one that has stuck with me for some time. I don’t even remember who the guys from the podcast How Was Your Run Today? were interviewing, but I will never forget the line:

To be a better runner, be a better person.

There’s a lot to chew on there. What does it mean to be a better person? Heck, what does it mean to be a better runner? Because “better” is largely subjective and it certainly is in both these cases. Still, it was something I started to explore within the last year. And this past weekend was good encapsulation of what I’ve done with that food for thought.

It started with some volunteer hours

My beloved alma mater, St. Bonaventure University, had an alumni volunteer opportunity on Saturday morning. About 12 of us arrived at the Food Bank of WNY, joined by a group of high-school aged kids. We split into three groups to take on three tasks. Mine was helping to fill 35-pound food boxes to be distributed to people in need.

Those people in need, we were reminded, aren’t just those who typically come to mind. There are people who are homeless and caught in a cycle of poverty. There are people who have slipped, who have been laid off, or are underemployed, or just don’t have family or friends with the capacity to say, “Here, let me buy your groceries for the week to get you through this tough time.”

In essence, that’s what I was doing. I was putting together a care package filled with canned vegetables, soups, rice and beans, pasta and sauce, and a few cookies and cake mixes for good measure, because who am I to deny someone something sweet? There’s enough judgement in the world already.

Here’s the thing about volunteering: I never thought I had time. And I didn’t. Until I made time. The other important life lesson was putting beliefs into practice. Sure we all love the Mother Theresa quote, “We can do no great things, only small things with great love.” But how often do we truly believe that? How often do we internalize this notion that we need to do big, grand things, instagramable things as it were, or else they are not worthy?

Two hours on Saturday morning. I packed about four total boxes. I did what I could do where I was at. And that set the tone for the rest of the weekend.

A snowy spring walk

Sunday, all of Western New York woke up to a fresh coat of snow.

It was March 31.

Collectively, as a region, we were so over it.

As much as I love winter (and I do), I too am ready to move fully into spring, with warmer temps, sunny days, trail runs and long hikes. On this day, we could grumble, or we could make the most of it.

Scott and I went to Chestnut Ridge park, where I once did the bulk of my long-distance training. The lower loop has a paved road. You are still surrounded by nature, but are not (a) destroying nature or (b) unnecessarily raising your anxiety level on iced over trails while darting from trail marker to trail marker.

It was cold, yes. A little snowy and windy. But peaceful. And pretty. We walked the four miles of rolling hills at a brisk pace, getting in both a workout, a good talk, and a good dose of nature therapy.

See, this day, I didn’t need to run.

My body craved being somewhere out in nature. It wanted to move but not be punished. It wanted to take advantage of what was in front of me.

To be a better runner

I know, know. I didn’t run this weekend. So how did trying to be a better person lead me to be a better runner?

Well, it all lies in that word “better.”

For me, it’s about doing what it’s in front me, what’s available to me, what I most want to do. Being the best runner I can be changes. Sometimes it’s about working on speed. Sometimes distance. Sometimes it’s about training for races. Other times it’s about adventure. Sometimes it’s about nothing more than just moving for the sake of moving because I can.

As I worked on being a “better person” I became a better runner by default, because I started to see what was important to me in the moment. It allowed me to put away my “shoulds” and do the next thing that felt right.