What a Simple Invite Can Bring...or, First Steps

Yesterday I started training for what will be my fourth marathon – the Towpath Marathon October 12 in Cuyahoga Valley National Park.  After my last experience, the Flying Pig in 2012, I wasn’t sure I’d ever want to put myself through the training again. I hear that women somehow forget the pain of childbirth, else they'd never repeat the experience. I wonder if marathon training is similar somehow?

First steps in training, or anything else for that matter, can sometimes be the most difficult. They can also be some of the most worthwhile. Which is why I was very happy to take some other first steps last Wednesday.

I was at the desk tying my Saucony’s and called into the living room to tell Em I was heading out for a run. I invited her to join me, honestly expecting her to answer, “I’m good,” or some version of ‘no thanks.’

Instead, she said she’d like to go. I smiled.

I waited while she went to change, grabbed a handful of poopbags for Howie and Henry, and we headed to Schenley Park to run  the oval.

Emily is not a big runner. She ran some back in the fall before it got crazy cold here in Pittsburgh, but we had never gone out together.  I was pretty excited for her to join me.

The Schenley oval used to feature a harness racing track. Today, it's a haven of public recreation featuring tennis courts, a sweet soccer field and track, acres of wide open green space, and, the .6 mile oval track itself that wraps around all the fun.

The oval holds fond memories for our family. Caleb has had countless soccer practices on its fields. Denise and I used to run there and unwind from the day during our first Pittsburgh life. Em has enjoyed hours on the nearby ice skating rink. We all love sharing a Rialto’s pizza picnic and the view of the skyline. It was fitting that we would head there for our first shared run.

She was a little apprehensive, saying she didn’t want to slow me down. I assured her that would not happen. I was happy for the company. Plus, since the boys were with us, I knew if anyone slowed me down it would not be her.

Howie is a good runner except for the fact that he views any vertical object – tree, bush, light pole, Emily’s leg – that does not bear his urine as a travesty in the first degree.  He also sees a run as a great opportunity to cleanse his bowels – thus the handful of poopbags. We knew one or two would not cut it.

Henry also loves to run, although he is prone to random stops that quickly place him directly under one’s feet making him a short, furry, grinning hurdle.

So, off we went, jogging at a comfortable pace counterclockwise around the oval. Howie tugging on Em’s arm in hunt of things to mark, Henry zigging and zagging across the path in search of people to admire him.  I followed Em’s pace and we silently made our way.

The first lap featured two poopstops, three or four pee stops, one trip for Henry through a puddle – not really mud, but I’m not sure what you call it when a gravel path has a puddle in the middle of it - one detour around the public works truck hogging the path while two really sweaty guys who didn’t seem very happy in their work trimmed branches off overhanging trees. We didn’t see any other dogs walking their people, so that chaos was avoided.

At one point Howie seemed a bit more interested in the folks playing disc golf down in the woods and I feared he might drag Emily through the trees to find them, but she pulled him back.

Our second time around was less eventful – only a couple more stops to pee, the start of a misty rain, and someone’s cross country team zipping by as if we were walking. We were not walking :) As we finished this lap, I knew Em had had enough. Not of the run, but of Howie yanking on her arm. She slowed to a walk and we headed back to the car. I know she could have gone much further, and perhaps someday we will.

We didn’t talk a whole lot, so our run was a bit different from our dog walking dates back in Kentucky – those countless treks under the stars that helped me know what was going on in her life. Words weren’t necessary. It was a treat sharing our first run together.

There’s something satisfying about the people you love joining you in your favorite activities; especially when they are not their favorite activities. I don’t know if this run was our first or if it will turn out to be our only – but, I do know that it was my favorite in quite some time. If you're doing the math, you know we ran just 1.2 m. I'm learning it's not how far you run. It's who you run with.