Why I run

This short essay should actually be titled "Chronicles of the Calves: How I Became a Recreational Runner Despite Having Ankles the Size of My Wrists." In all seriousness, though, I found a "Why We Run" essay contest through a runner I follow on Twitter who has an interesting blog, and decided to write a brief piece on why I run. Of course, I don't like to self-promote, so there are currently no votes for my story, but I figured I would share it here.

Some background I provided with my entry: I've been living in New Orleans for nearly seven years, and while at this point I hate to bring up anything about Katrina, the challenges I faced in defining my athletic self—and my actual self—at that time mark a pivotal point in my adult life. Enduring the transition from an elite athlete to evacuee to just being another student at Tulane was incredibly difficult, perhaps an identity crisis of sorts, and running was a powerful force that came into my life at just the right time. While I'm not yet running marathons quite yet, I have goals to run a half and additional 10ks in the next year, and I'm incredibly motivated by others who have written about the way that running has changed their lives, including yours. Thank you for putting together this contest, as it's served as a chance for me to reflect on my status as an athlete/runner/happy person five years after that awful storm, and I now know that without running, I'd probably be neither of those three things.

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Unlike many other runners, my path to discovering running began in the pool.

As a competitive swimmer, running had always been a part of my cross-training, but it was never something that I particularly enjoyed. In fact, it's fair to say that I hated it. For years, I struggled with a hip flexor injury that made running even more painful than it seemed, and although I was a decent runner, I never would've guessed the role running would play in my athletic future.

At 18, I thought I'd enjoy four full years of varsity swimming at Tulane University in New Orleans; however, Hurricane Katrina struck in August 2005, and months later, in the middle of my junior year of college, I was faced with the sudden end of my competitive swimming career when my team was cut. For a total of sixteen years, I'd defined myself by my accomplishments as an elite swimmer, but who was I really without swimming in my life?

In the months following my return to a battered and bruised New Orleans, I discovered running as a way to release stress, enjoy the scenery of Audubon Park, and spend time alone with my thoughts as I had done as a swimmer. Running has since provided me with a new platform for physical challenges, accomplishing goals, and maintaining some fitness from my days as a fish.

Just as I once thought about swimming, I can't imagine my life without running as a part of it.