{"id":169711,"date":"2025-01-29T11:30:52","date_gmt":"2025-01-29T16:30:52","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=169711"},"modified":"2025-01-31T10:28:52","modified_gmt":"2025-01-31T15:28:52","slug":"running-diaries","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2025\/01\/29\/running-diaries\/","title":{"rendered":"Running Diaries"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"\"

Photograph courtesy of Kim Beil.<\/p><\/div>\n

My running diary is a stack of 8 \u00bd x 11\u201d papers printed with a calendar grid. The small boxes demand brevity. Cryptic penciled notes represent dates, times, distances, elevations, routes, and sometimes strangers\u2019 names and course records. There are codes for heart rate (HR), physical-therapy exercises (yoga and single-leg squat: YSS), and personal records (PR). There\u2019s space for an occasional comment: \u201cHard!\u201d or \u201cOK!\u201d I would schedule my workouts weeks in advance, only infrequently crossing them out and altering the plan.<\/p>\n

I created this calendar when I started running, and kept it through my late thirties. After a few months of exhausted frustration, I learned that I was anemic and probably had been for years. As supplements pumped iron into my blood, I found that I could run faster and farther. I felt like I was getting younger; it was like alchemy. The calendar helped me look forward to my fortieth birthday, a milestone I\u2019d been taught to fear. The data prove that I love going over hills.<\/p>\n

A few months into 2020, half a year after my birthday, the diary changes. In place of record times and podium finishes, there are notes about pain, walks, pills. I stopped labeling the years. But somehow the diary kept going, even when I had to stop running. These excerpts map my route through pain. Initially, I liked that the codes made the diary look like a scientific dataset. Keeping track of the numbers seemed like an objective measurement of myself, a way to gain a little distance from what it feels like to run\u2014and to be unable to run. Later, I stopped keeping the diary, in order to collapse that distance again.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n


\nJanuary\u2013February 2018 <\/strong><\/p>\n

January 1<\/strong><\/p>\n

3 miles easy; 8:28 pace<\/p>\n

\n

Not a New Year\u2019s resolution, but a training plan. Working backward from a trail race, I blocked out a fifty-six-day month, irregular as a Roman January.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

January 3<\/strong><\/p>\n

3 miles @ race pace; 7:23 pace (hard!)<\/p>\n

\n

This wasn\u2019t the first time I\u2019d trained for a race, but it was the first time I thought about more than finishing. I thought about winning.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

January 5<\/strong><\/p>\n

7.25 miles @ Montara Mountain, 1,686\u2019 elevation<\/p>\n

\n

This was the day before my thirty-eighth birthday, but I didn\u2019t mark that on the calendar. It felt like a bad omen. My fear of aging had started in middle school. I was Peter Pan-sad when I was told that my body would change. Before my dad\u2019s fortieth birthday his doctor told him to quit running: \u201cIf it hurts, don\u2019t do it.\u201d At my first job after college, a coworker watched me eat a maple doughnut and chided, \u201cYou won\u2019t be able to do that when you turn thirty.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

January 22<\/strong><\/p>\n

4 miles easy; 8:32 pace<\/p>\n

January 23<\/strong><\/p>\n

Cross-train; spinning 40 min.<\/p>\n

high hamstring better<\/p>\n

(no green chair for 4 days)<\/p>\n

\n

My writing chair: friend or foe? Usually I think that running helps my writing, but now it hurt to sit. I blamed it on the chair.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

January 26<\/strong><\/p>\n

7 x 400 meters @ 7:30 pace<\/p>\n

Bad sleep, tiny shin splints<\/p>\n

Yoga (no single-leg squats)<\/p>\n

January 28<\/strong><\/p>\n

Waterfront race<\/p>\n

10 miles @ 7:38 pace, 4th woman<\/p>\n

\n

A warm-up race on hard, flat pavement along San Francisco Bay. Not at all like the trail race, except that I was nervous the night before and I was nervous at the starting line. I gave myself the night off from physical-therapy exercises.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

February 21<\/strong><\/p>\n

30 min. tempo; 10 min @ 7:19 pace<\/p>\n

felt good<\/p>\n

February 25<\/strong><\/p>\n

Whistle Punk Half Marathon<\/p>\n

13.1 miles; 10:18 pace \/ 2:14:39, 2984\u2019 elevation<\/p>\n

#1 woman<\/p>\n

\n

There\u2019s little fanfare in this box, except the #1 and the story the numbers tell: There\u2019s my 2016 time on the same course (2:54:06), my goal time (2:30:00), and my stretch goal (2:15:00, which was always my actual goal). I passed a man on the first climb who said something stupid and predictable about getting beaten by a girl. I ran faster after this. I got home and printed out another fifty-six-day calendar. I didn\u2019t have much time left, I thought, before I got old and soft and slow.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

 <\/p>\n

October\u2013November 2018<\/strong><\/p>\n

\"\"

Photograph by Kim Beil.<\/p><\/div>\n

October 14<\/strong><\/p>\n

Wunderlich Park, 20 miles<\/p>\n

11:53 pace \/ 139 HR<\/p>\n

\n

I was running farther now, training for the Vista Verde Trail Marathon. It took a long time for me to run twenty miles in the mountains, but all the while I was entranced by the sunlight and fog in the redwoods and the feeling that, as Haruki Murakami wrote in What I Talk About When I Talk About Running<\/em>, \u201cthere were still some possibilities left for me and my body.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

October 16<\/strong><\/p>\n

cross-train, swim<\/p>\n

October 19<\/strong><\/p>\n

8 miles tempo @ race pace<\/p>\n

10:01 pace \/ 143 HR<\/p>\n

Hard!<\/p>\n

November 3<\/strong><\/p>\n

Woodside 35K Race<\/p>\n

22 miles \/ 3000\u2019 elevation<\/p>\n

3:41:01<\/p>\n

10:06 \/ 151 HR<\/p>\n

#1 woman<\/p>\n

November 7<\/strong><\/p>\n

4 miles – easy<\/span><\/p>\n

Back out!<\/p>\n

\n

I don\u2019t know what having your back \u201cgo out\u201d really means, but that\u2019s what I say because it makes others understand the invisible pain. I lay flat on the floor and stared at the ceiling.<\/p>\n

 <\/p><\/blockquote>\n

January 2020\u2013January 2022<\/strong><\/p>\n

\"\"

Photograph by Kim Beil.<\/p><\/div>\n

January 2<\/strong><\/p>\n

Bike 12<\/p>\n

Massage<\/p>\n

\n

At the end of 2018, my back had gotten better. I placed third woman in the Vista Verde Trail marathon, then I raced a 50K. But I tore a muscle in my quad on a muddy downhill during the race, and weeks in the calendar went blank. I came back, then got injured again later in the year. In 2020, the start of a new decade, I got myself a sports massage as an early birthday present. I was trying to stretch and fold my body back into a shape I recognized.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

January 6<\/strong><\/p>\n

Swim<\/p>\n

\n

My fortieth birthday passed. No comment in the calendar.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

January 8<\/strong><\/p>\n

2 @ Junipero Serra Park<\/p>\n

10:15 pace \/ 147 HR<\/p>\n

TRAIL!!<\/p>\n

\n

Slower than usual, but my all-caps exclamation and my heart-rate monitor seem to have recorded the effort and excitement of being back on the dirt, even if for only two miles.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

February 1<\/strong><\/p>\n

8.5 @ Wunderlich Park<\/p>\n

12:07 pace \/ 128 HR<\/p>\n

New Nikes, no foot pain<\/p>\n

\n

The trail through the redwoods was soft and finally, instead of pain, I felt powerful on the long climb. I let myself rejoice in the fact that I\u2019d moved up an age group.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

February 22<\/strong><\/p>\n

Mt. Umunhum 14K<\/p>\n

9:11 \/ 159 HR<\/p>\n

#3 age group \/ 9th woman overall<\/p>\n

\n

I joined a running club and signed up for a team race. Against former college athletes, I felt like the amateur I was. The trail around an abandoned quicksilver mine was steep, loose, and rocky. Here I couldn\u2019t win outright, except against myself. It was a personal record for this distance on a trail with almost two thousand feet of elevation gain.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

February 26<\/strong><\/p>\n

6.8 @ Sweeney Ridge<\/p>\n

9:50 \/ 148 HR<\/p>\n

\n

On my favorite trail, I ran into a friend of a friend. He was faster than me, but I stretched out my strides, trying not to lose speed on the downhills, though I\u2019m usually cautious. We could see the airport, where midmorning long-haul flights from Asia were landing as usual. The novel coronavirus was in the news.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

March 13<\/strong><\/p>\n

X<\/p>\n

last day on campus<\/p>\n

\n

I drew an X through this day and the next; I didn\u2019t have time to run. The university moved classes online due to COVID-19<\/small>, and I had to attend meetings in which administrators advised us on how to transform our teaching for Zoom. \u201cSit in front of a clean background in a well-lit space\u201d and \u201cwear a plain, unpatterned top,\u201d they said.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

April 3<\/strong><\/p>\n

3 @ Junipero Serra Park<\/span> closed, on road<\/p>\n

9:26 \/ 144 HR<\/p>\n

Local parks are closed.<\/p>\n

May 5<\/strong><\/p>\n

13.6 @ Wunderlich Park<\/p>\n

10:48 \/ 152 HR<\/p>\n

\n

I ran hard in the morning, then sat for hours in front of my clean background.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

May 23<\/strong><\/p>\n

Swim<\/p>\n

Back weird<\/p>\n

July 5<\/strong><\/p>\n

4 @ San Andreas Trail<\/p>\n

Shooting, electric pain down left leg while lying down<\/p>\n

July 6<\/strong><\/p>\n

Swim<\/p>\n

No sleep, leg pain<\/p>\n

\n

I was ejected from my chair by sudden pain. I grabbed my leg with both hands and walked in furious, frightened circles, trying to shake it off.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

July 7<\/strong><\/p>\n

Express care<\/p>\n

Slept with codeine<\/p>\n

Piriformis syndrome?<\/p>\n

\n

Over Zoom, my doctor guessed that the pain was the result of my glutes impinging a nerve. (Should\u2019ve done my physical therapy, I thought.) She told me to wait and see, and to stop running. It wasn\u2019t life-and-death.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

August 19<\/strong><\/p>\n

Bike 30 min.<\/p>\n

FIRES<\/p>\n

Dr. Levin!<\/p>\n

\n

The pain continued. I was awake all night. All day I paced indoors because there was wildfire smoke outside. Finally, the spinal specialist ordered an MRI and saw a herniated disc rubbing my sciatic nerve. I learned that the spinal column can be compressed by long hours of sitting. A Zoom injury.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

September 6<\/strong><\/p>\n

Sweeney Ridge<\/p>\n

5.5 mile hike<\/p>\n

Bad pain @ p.m.<\/p>\n

Codeine didn\u2019t help<\/p>\n

\n

Two days after an epidural steroid injection and the pain was worse than ever. I\u2019d started scrawling ugly notes about sleep and pills, so many pills, on the lines between each calendar day. I was still on a waiting list to see a physical therapist.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

December 7<\/strong><\/p>\n

2 miles<\/p>\n

5.5 miles<\/p>\n

2 miles<\/p>\n

1 mile<\/p>\n

\n

I started tallying my daily walks instead of runs. Only being in smooth, slow motion soothed the pain. I tried putting a treadmill under my standing desk, but walking on it nauseated me. Every morning, between classes, after lunch and dinner, and then again before bed, I took myself out for a walk. I was offered medical leave, but it would mean I\u2019d lose my health insurance, and I\u2019d finally gotten into physical therapy.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

January 6<\/strong><\/p>\n

2<\/p>\n

5.5<\/p>\n

3<\/p>\n

Bad sleep<\/p>\n

\n

It was my birthday. I wondered how much longer I could live like this. I was crying all the time.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

January 25<\/strong><\/p>\n

3<\/p>\n

2<\/p>\n

2<\/p>\n

Bad sleep<\/p>\n

\n

I was prescribed sleeping pills, but for months the calendar recorded \u201cbad sleep.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

March 15<\/strong><\/p>\n

2<\/p>\n

Swim<\/p>\n

2<\/p>\n

Good sleep<\/p>\n

4 gabapentin<\/p>\n

\n

I got a COVID<\/small> vaccine on March 5. Relief ran through me. At the physical therapist\u2019s recommendation, I started listening to a podcast about pain science. Pain, the researchers said, is the body\u2019s interpretation of sensation. Fear and anxiety amplify pain. Was it possible that my fears of COVID<\/small> and chronic pain were creating more pain, even after my injury had healed? Understanding this helped me sleep. I could recover. I tapered the meds, like tapering workouts before a race.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

March 31<\/strong><\/p>\n

2<\/p>\n

5.5<\/p>\n

1mile \u2013 run! (mtn. lion)<\/p>\n

Good sleep<\/p>\n

\n

On a walk after dinner, I saw what I thought was a stray dog crossing the street in front of me. I put out my hand as it breathed by just six feet away. Its heavy tail nearly swept the ground. My body gathered itself into thought: mountain lion! This was no hypothetical lion, like the ones researchers use to explain the evolution of our human stress response. Unlike job stress and COVID<\/small> fears, I could either fight or flee this lion. I backed away slowly, then jogged the mile home down the middle of the street.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

April 13<\/strong><\/p>\n

1-run<\/p>\n

3-walk<\/p>\n

3-walk<\/p>\n

Good sleep<\/p>\n

\n

I started running one mile per day, then more. I ran all summer. I raced again and came in second overall, beating all the men. I moved up another age group. I left the calendar behind.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

 <\/p>\n

Kim Beil is an art historian who teaches at Stanford.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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