I always hated running. I never had much stamina. When I played high school basketball and the coach made us run laps, I usually straggled in close to last. In 11th grade, in California, I had the great misfortunate that the new junior varsity coach was also the cross country coach. He’d send us out on lengthy runs through the neighborhoods surrounding the school, and I could be counted on to trail the pack. Coach Ross Gentry was his name. Cursed be it. 

But of late, I’ve started running, and I enjoy it. “Of late” being April of this year. I decided it’d be nice to work up to a 5K race, and was shamed into the idea by the fact that our pastor’s wife had just run a 5K race. But I knew the first step would be managing to run a quarter mile without collapsing. I started running–run an eighth of a mile, then walk, then run again–and I found it fun. But I quickly realized I had done something to my ankle. That something turned out to be a stress fracture. I am terribly fragile. 

I stopped running for a month. And then, when the ailment persisted, I saw a specialist, who confirmed it was a stress fracture. BUT, he said I could still run. The stress fracture would heal, as long as I ran in moderation. He repeated that when I saw him again last Friday.

So since early June, I’ve been running maybe a couple times a week. I did a mile and a half, and then a mile and three-quarters this past Saturday. And I really enjoy it. Why? Why did I hate running as a teenager, and now I find it satisfying? What makes the difference? The difference can be summed up in one word:

iPod