Run for Your Life


It's a nice feeling to be asked if I am running again and to answer in the affirmative.

It’s a nice feeling to be asked if I am running again and to answer in the affirmative.

I have gone from alternating between walking and running every 5 minutes to running for a full hour in a little over a month. There is something to be said for muscle memory.

During these winter months, I have been frequenting short indoor tracks that allow me to run for a decent amount of time without encountering anything resembling a cool temperature or steep hill. With the short laps, I also feel a lot faster than I actually am.

I am not exactly concerned with my pace per mile, but I know that my speed has all but disappeared.

I am slower than I used to be for 2 reasons: I am heavier and I am older than I was when I was taking home hardware in my age group and the Clydesdale (male runners >200 pounds) divisions. I know that as I get closer to my goal weight, I will get faster, but by how much?

I really shouldn’t care. I should just be happy to be running again, which I am, but there is still a competitor in me who wants to be the best runner he can be.

Recently, I was running on a YMCA short track above the basketball court in an old brick building. It evoked a picture of the clean-cut high schoolers of the 1950s in racing whites practicing for spring track.

It takes 27 laps to run a mile, but for some reason, it is not monotonous to me. The time just disappears when I am up there.

A gentleman my size came onto the track. He was walking at a brisk pace, and I was making sure that I wasn’t going to run into him as I passed by.

I got past him for what I thought was the last time, but then, all of a sudden, the track started shaking. The guy was in a full sprint.

My stranger danger kicked in and I felt like the slow sheep with the wolf on its tail. Given that I had already been pushing myself hard for 30 minutes, I knew that I had to hold off his attack.

I didn’t have to outrun him; I just had to outlast him.

Every time I snuck a look over my shoulder, I would see him in the same spot. I was holding him off, but he wasn’t gaining.

I gave it everything I had, and suddenly, the track stopped shaking. After a quick peek, I saw my competition heading for the exit. I had won the day.

Given how great I felt, you would have thought that I had won the Olympic marathon. It was a confidence booster that I certainly needed.

It’s things like that get me out there again.

Jay Sochoka, RPh, isn’t the slowest sheep.

Related Videos
Male pharmacist in white coat with stethoscope and clipboard over drugstore background | Image Credit: Syda Productions -
Pharmacy Drugstore Checkout Cashier Counter: Beautiful Female Pharmacist Scans Barcode and Handsome Young Man Talks to a Cashier and Pays for the Health Care Products at the Checkout Counter - Image credit: Gorodenkoff |
Image Credit: Adobe Stock - nataliaderiabina
Credit: Adobe Stock - Tierney
ipopba -
lexiconimages -
Yaruniv-Studio -
Related Content
© 2023 MJH Life Sciences

All rights reserved.