Running in Love

Monday, 7 July 2008  |  Bullish Insights

I know.  The title is so cheesy it makes you want to puke in your running shoes.  I almost did after I typed that in.  But, how else can I write about the positive impact running has had on my marriage without getting all sentimental and baduy?!

Loyal readers know that I had, for the longest time, been praying that the hubby join me in my running crusade.  I had never planned for an all-out offensive with him.  My strategy was to inundate him with interesting and exciting running stories, show off my well-toned arms and legs (which haven’t revealed themselves to me at the moment), and simply wait and see if he would take up the sport on his own.

Lo and behold, he did!  Slowly but surely, he worked his way up to 5ks, first on the treadmill then the road over the past few months.  He then joined his 1st 5k race, the Mizuno Infinity Run, and a couple more after that.  On days when he doesn’t play golf (his great love—second to me, of course), he runs instead.  A month ago, he purchased his Garmin 405 (which was technically my birthday gift to him) and last week, he got a mountain bike (which is way cooler than my hand-me-down).  The hubby is getting serious about this—and I can only sit back and admire the new running/ biking obsessed fiend I’ve created…kidding!

Who would’ve known that—aside from the many health benefits of running and biking—we would receive another bonus: a happier marriage.  It’s not like we weren’t happy to begin with.  But, running certainly has added more color and excitement to our married life and has given us yet another passion to share.  

It’s fine if we don’t go on dinner dates often.  And he doesn’t give me flowers on Valentine’s Day.  And he doesn’t call me every waking minute to say he loves me (I wouldn’t want that anyway!)

I’m much happier with the fact that, last weekend, we ran an easy 5k together and had breakfast before the kids woke up.

I love it when I ask the hubby “What was your pace?” and he’ll answer with a number, not a blank stare. That we can pore over our own Garmins for minutes (it’s not just me anymore) and share the same amazement at these wonderfully crafted little watches (although my 305 is still better than his).  That we enter a sports store together equally ecstatic over our greatest active wear finds.

Our next date?  A bike trip to the gas station to put air in our tires—I’d choose that over dinner at Greenbelt, anytime!