Running; My First Love

When I was twelve a new trail was constructed behind the apartment complex I lived in. After a small trek through the woods, which was technically off limits, and a tricky hop, skip, jump move on rocks slightly above the water I ended up just past mile marker three. The power of a good running trail was unfamiliar to me; however something about the new concrete pulled me in and got me thinking about where this path could lead. I had a teacher who was a runner. Each day in class she expressed how much it meant to her and how it was a catalyst for many other benefial things in her life like eating healthy and getting enough sleep. Twelve year old me didn’t think I could do it. I didn’t think I could run the way she did or love it as truly as her; but I did.

Running became my best friend, almost literally. Instead of socializing and hanging out with other kids my age I would run, or sometimes just walk. It became the only coping mechanism for all the horrible things I went through as an adolescent. Nothing could top the burning in my legs or the small holes worn in my Sauconys from my pinky toe rubbbing hard against the side of my shoe. The running trail never judged me, never made me feel less of a person than school and other kids did. I knew I wasn’t a good runner, though it never mattered when I outside, two miles from where I started, utterly alone with a feeling of accomplishment.

Eventually my family moved, and I had to leave that trail behind. My new school had a cross country team for 7th and 8th graders which I joined reluctantly (as an 8th grader). Trading the trail for a cross country course was a tough pill to swallow. I had run before, but I had yet l actually train for a race in a predominately grassy area. My heart yearned for the concrete path that once snaked in front of me. I never loved competitive running the same way I loved running on my own in the cool air fall evenings offer. Even as a senior in high school, having run three out of four years competitively, I never got around to loving the race the way I loved trail running.

My world has expanded since I started running. There’s a lot more to balance between maintaining straight A’s, working in the evenings, and helping with my younger siblings. Sometimes those evenings runs are put on the back burner and I often dread practicing for two hours after being at school for seven. The sport itself has never let me down, though by not loving the competitive side of it, and not loving the leisurely side of it fiercely enough, part of me feels like I have let it down time and time again. Running was my first love, I mean it is my first love, and I am thankful first loves are so forgiving. I can’t wait to find a good, solid trail again after my time running competitively in high school is over. One that will absorb my strides and bring back the passion I’ve slightly lost sight over as the years have gone on.

- Maya Baughn (@myfly99)