The Hunger Games: A Runner's Perspective

So I'm a second semester college senior. You'll see why that's relevant to this post in a minute. But to start, lets just go over my running history really quick.

Prior to high school I was a runner simply to train for other sports (mostly soccer). When I hit high school I made the switch to competitive running and my distance training and frequency of running went up drastically. Then, college came. And while I held on to the term "competitive runner" as long as I could, entering road races and university-sanctioned 5Ks as often as frequently as possible, I eventually had to let go of the title "competitive runner" around my junior year of college. Why you ask? Well, I was running more infrequently and, to no surprise, I had adopted a nutrition that was at odds with even the most lenient running diets.

Running, whether competitively or just for exercise, depends a lot upon the health of the runner. Running for sport is only successful at the highest level if a very stringent and appropriate diet is followed by the runner, as expressed by this runner's diet plan supported by Livestrong.

In high school I was strongly committed to a diet plan. I ate a balanced diet of fruits, whole grains, lean meats and healthy snacks. I tried to eat multiple small meals a day rather than two or three large ones and always replenished after distance runs. My diet for most of my high school career consisted of foods like this:

Image: foodandcookingrecipes.blogspot.com

Image: Fitness.com

Image: Stlucia.gov.lc

But slowly, over the course of college, the ease of "fast food" the introduction of alcoholic beverages into my diet and the lack of time spent running began to deteriorate whatever type of "competitive runner" I had become. When I began to realize this was happening I was a little saddened, but not much. Competitive running in high school was fun because I am an extremely competitive person. Beating myself (through times) and other runners from rival schools fueled me to keep getting better. When those aspects were taken out of my running routine, in came this type of diet:

Image: chow.com

Image: Bronxalehouse.com

Image: Querty.com

This diet has resulted in an addition of pounds, a more sloth-like pace to my runs and a less-competitve, more I-need-to-run-so-I-don't-get-fat strategy to running. Part of me is ok with this evolution, while the other wonders what my running habits would be like had I kept up a balanced diet and cut down on the highly caloric, yet extremely tasty, intake of beer on a consistent basis. I do, however, have no regrets. I am of the belief that a runner is always a runner and I will never lose that part of me. Whether running becomes more frequent in my post college years or it continues to be a once or twice a week occurrence done mostly to offset my unbalanced diet, I will always be a runner with hunger. What I do about that hunger will always be a game and it will always impact the type of runner I am.

The Alternative: Running Without Music

Since beginning this blog I have only shared my opinions about running to music. And while this is the general purpose of the blog, that approach neglects a very pertinent topic and common occurrence: running  without music.

You can't run with music all of the time. I mean you could, but the chances that you'll misplace your iPod, have it die or just prefer the ambient noise of nature over a carefully assembled playlist at some point is highly likely. And as much of a proponent I am of good running music, I'm equally appreciative of the alternative. Running without music actually came first for me.

I find the question "when did you begin running?" an extremely hard question to answer. First because I am a very literal person, so I immediately think of my elementary school's walk-a-thon (which really meant run-a-thon for first graders). I know this isn't actually what the person is asking me about when they inquire, but it's the beginning of the thought process that will result in my attempted answer.

That answer is usually high school. While I've played soccer my whole life and running was a big part of that training, I didn't consider myself a "runner" until high school. That's when cross country and track season, on top of soccer, made athletics a year-round commitment and running a frequent occurrence. And seeing that the inside of your head is all you have to listen to during a competitive cross country race, I had to make a commitment to training without my iPod.

Running without music, I'd argue, is more mentally therapeutic than running with it. The mix of endorphins brought on by the exercise and the actual act of running, which frees your mind from most other thoughts, combine for a very relaxing experience. But there's a chance I'm biased. When you grow up somewhere like this: 

(Image by: Yours Truly)

There are many other motivations to get you outside other than your iPod. Prior to college I had lived in Hawaii my entire life. So picking up running opened up a whole new kind of paradise. I could run on beaches and mountain trails for training. The simple fact that jumping right into the ocean after a long run on a hot day did a lot to make running fun in itself. So if I were to give my opinion on when and when not to run with music I'd have to say it depends a lot on the person. I personally think that the aesthetics of my run have a lot to do with the decision. I've found that the quieter my surroundings will be, the more likely I am to choose listening to nothing. I rarely leave the house for a quick run outdoors in College Park without music because they usually entail cross walks and lots of cars.

I'll also say that deciding if I want to run to music has a lot to do with the reason I'm running. When running was more often a competitive endeavor I found it helpful to run all kinds of distances without music. For me, getting as close to the actual environment of the race helped me the most. If I got too used to running to music it became very different when I ran without it. When my legs started to hurt at the end of the race I needed to know how to get through it mentally. Sometimes that did involve singing songs in my head--but it wasn't always that easy.