First run back is the hardest?

I ran an 11 minute mile today. It burned in my chest. There was coughing, gagging, sweating, and when the 1 mile vibration of my watch hit, a massive sigh of relief. That’s a far cry from the 6 minute miles I used to average. I was so smug with that 6 minute mile time every day I used to clock. I was proud of the races I ran, the people I passed, and the sweat I didn’t break.

It’s been over a year since those times and its quite obvious. When I first tried running, it was to get even thinner. I had hit a weight loss plateau, and running was something that I wasn’t doing. After I started, I broke that weight loss plateau and started to chase that runner’s high. But that’s just it. Running was a weight loss thing for me and very rarely was it ever just something that I enjoyed. Running was the first habit I cut when I found out that too much stress to my body was keeping my body from having a period and cycling. When I cut it, I craved it. I craved the control of it and the pattern.

What I lost in running, however, I gained in stress relief. Gone were the headaches! Hello full hormonal cycle! Through recovery, I had to become less regimented. I had to stop obsessing about making every minute of my day perfectly healthy and productive. In the heat of it, I had considered myself a “runner.” It was an identity that I never thought I’d get to own so I took pride in it. Nobody else I knew was a runner. I liked how they looked at me like I was crazy when I took a run on Christmas morning in the snowy streets or came in from a 4 AM jog on vacation. Cutting out my daily run felt like losing a part of myself that I actually liked. The sad part was that I realized later that I only liked myself for the identities I had and hated so many parts of my own body. Who wants to lose traction, progress, AND the value you thought you had??

Now on the other side of recovery, I sometimes miss the identities I felt like I got to have even though I recognize the attachment for what it was. The truth of the matter is, on the other side of recovery, you get to notice that you have value without forcing yourself into identities. But can I still like to run?

So today I went for a run because I get to decide all over again what I like to do. Do I like to run? Am I still a runner? Did I only like it because of the results I would see? How much running is too much? Will I ever get even close to a place again where it becomes unhealthy?

When I get to a place where a mile doesn’t feel like 7, I hope I’ll know. I just keep thinking that maybe the first run back is the hardest?