For The Fun Of It

by  

Kirwan Price

I started running for the fun of it, sort of. I ran to escape the older kids whose promises of getting to play with them involved being the receiver in a game of punt return. I was the lone returner. Gasping "get Mom" with the wind knocked out of me was the only thing I learned from that game. It was much more fun to run for the sake of winning the race around the whole playground at Field Day and subsequently the adoration of a girl who wasn't known for eating boogers. In truth, as a kid, I ran for the sake of running. I had no agenda, I just liked it. As kids, I think that was true for all of us.

My step-dad's reasons were different: to relieve the pressure of his job at the Pentagon and the camaraderie of his fellow joggers during their run at lunch. He was the "runner guy" in the neighborhood. He had a pair of New Balance shoes that he built back the heel of with hot glue when it was worn. I had no idea at the time why he ran - jogging was the common term then - and I didn't care. His absence on long runs meant my brother and I were free to fight in between games of Atari Pong. I had no interest in joining him as it seemed a bit like torture, but I was curious.

He took me to my first race in 1978. It was a one mile "fun" run at George Mason University. You got a jar filled with Gatorade gum for winning. I don't know how good that gum was at replacing electrolytes, but it extracted every ounce of saliva out of your mouth in a fruitless effort to get rid of the pucker it caused. I had fun, nonetheless, and began to take more of an interest in running. I tried to go on jogs with my step-dad. It was just as I had expected, torture. That "stitch" I got in my side was about as much fun as that nauseous feeling I got the first time I tried a cigarette. How anyone gets over that to make a habit of it is a mystery to me. I did try again, with jogging, but only when my mom went along. She slowed his pace and, besides, I couldn't let her beat me. I bought a pair of Nike Waffle Trainers from Sears, mostly for looks, and would jog with my parents when it seemed like more fun than what I was doing at the time.

Kirwan Price With His Parents John and Betty King

My step-dad ran the 3rd annual Marine Corps Marathon and we drove from Fairfax, VA to D.C. to watch him finish. Port-o-lets and offering water on the course was still in the experimemtal phase of recreational races, and what I saw people do to nylon shorts should have scared me away from jogging for any reason whatsoever. But it didn't. In the shadow of my step-dad, I started a lifetime of running. And like most people who run, there have been countless reasons for doing so: coping with grief, boosting self esteem, competing, being a member of a team, liking the race t-shirt, making friends, proving something to myself, getting to know a new city, drinking post race beer, wearing a wedding dress, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

Slowly, I began to take it more seriously, eventually setting goals, tracking progress, following training plans and never leaving without my Garmin. My first objective, though, remains the same as it was when I was a kid - fun. For the sake of running itself, because I can, because it is an elementary pleasure. It is easy to lose sight of that. Rather than celebrate the fun of even making it to the starting line of a race, we often lament about an injury that might slow us down or that we didn't get in all the training we wanted. Don't. Just have fun. Revel in the mere training, in getting to know your surroundings and your neighbors. We live in paradise, get outside and make the most of it. Run for whatever reason you want, but above all else do it for the same reasons you did as a kid - because it is fun, and if you get a non-booger picker along the way consider it a bonus.