500 miles

This year, I decided to challenge myself with a fitness goal: to run 500 miles. Not too lofty of a goal, something to give me some consistency in my workout routine. To get me outside the gym. And possible to do anywhere in the world.

I did the math – I’d need to average 10 miles a week. Usually broken up into 3 runs of a distance of 3 or 4 miles. At times I experimented with two 5 mile runs and found recovery took longer.

This challenge brought unexpected rewards:

1. I was out in nature and experienced the seasons change. I estimate a ran about 165 runs, only 4 of which were on a treadmill due to logistical or safety concerns: once in North Carolina (very rainy weather), once in India and twice in Mexico. I began in the dead of winter and then watched the buds emerge. The dogwoods flowered. The rich green and heat of summer. Then, the colorful transition to fall.

2. I experienced many places in the world while passing through at speed. Including the sites, sounds and smells of different cities. Most memorable was the Bandra Bandstand in Mumbai. The strip lay right in front of my hotel on a business trip. At sunrise, I laced up and took off on the path. Admittedly, I was nervous, colleagues thought I should not go alone. But I had seen other women running, and I have self defense skills, so I did it. No one gave me a second look. I experienced the sea hitting again the concrete and rock wall, saw a lady stringing together colorful flowers, finally took in a view of a long bridge on a lookout point. I was surprised to find a recreation of a Rodin sculpture on the seafront.

3. I found a way to keep myself fit and healthy by stepping up my stretching and recovery routines. One of my first concerns is I would get sick or injured and not complete the challenge, but I did not. If I felt planters coming on, I’d stretch more. If I felt a sickness coming over me, I’d drink more tea. I never needed to take more than a 3 days off to recover.

In total, I ran in 5 countries: Mexico, India, France, Spain and the US. In the US, I ran in 7 states: California, Oregon, Florida, North Carolina, New York, Virginia and Washington. I ran through iconic locations including the Brooklyn Bridge and Times Square. I ran along the ramparts of Saint Malo. I ran the coast of Almeria and watched the sunrise over Morocco in the distance. My husband and I ran along a ridge in the Blue Ridge Parkway in the bracing cold. Taking in the undulating mountains before we raced back for a hot coffee. From one week to the next, I ran in balmy Florida and snowy Washington. The contrast in weather was remarkable.

I ran along the Pacific Ocean, Arabian Sea, English Channel, Alboran Sea and Atlantic Sea. One magical morning, I was accompanied by a pod of dolphins.

Most of the time I ran alone. It was intriguing to see where my brain went, particularly while running the rails to trails behind my house. I alternated directions to mix it up a bit. I saw turtles, toads, owls, doves, squirrels, deer and rabbits. I exchanged pleasantries with humans and stopped to pet dogs. Many mornings I was completely alone during the sunrise.

I ran a few times with my nieces and nephews in Oregon or on the northern coast of California. We witnessed whale spouts in the sea along the cliff wall path. My husband joined me at times, as did some of his workout buddies.

All in all, I estimate it was about 5,000 minutes which is only 83 hours. An incredibly small amount of time in the scheme of life. Some of the runs I filled my ears with music or a podcast of an audio book. But most of the time I ran with my thoughts. At times I didn’t like my thoughts, but often I was happy with the inner chatter.

The running gave me stability during a time of change. Something I could commit to when life sometimes felt out of my control. My family and friends supported my endeavor and cheered me along which was, perhaps, the most meaningful experience.

In 2023, I might do it again, or I might not. It may be the year to focus on others, but I imagine I’ll still be running 3 days a week. It’s hard to think of another way to so easily keep myself moving through the world.