Another Book About Running

Another Book About Running:

Random Thoughts, Stories and Advice From a Slightly Better Than Average Runner...

Another Book About Running:

Random Thoughts, Stories and Advice From a Slightly Better Than Average Runner...

Written by

Ryan Regnier

Chapter - What the Wife Really Thinks

(Mile Far Too Many)

Written by

Jennifer Regnier

Self-Published by Ryan Regnier

2016

Copyright © 2016 by Ryan Regnier

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.

First Printing: 2016

ISBN 978-1-365-33256-2

Ryan Regnier

1745 C St

Lincoln, NE 68502

ryan.regnier@gmail.com

Ordering Information:

Special discounts are available on quantity purchases by corporations, associations, educators, and others. For details, contact the publisher at the above listed address.

U.S. trade bookstores and wholesalers: Please contact Ryan Regnier

Tel: (402) 470-7440; or ryan.regnier@gmail.com.

Dedication

This book is dedicated to my loving wife Jennifer, and our 5 children; Addison, Grace, Hannah, Lucy and Jack.

...For putting up with my early morning and late night runs, and for the numerous ‘vacations’ where I dragged you across the country for another race. I love you all, thanks for the support!

Pre-face...like Prefontaine

When I told my wife Jen that I was going to write a book, she laughed at me.  Spoken in a condescending tone, she asked why I thought I could write a book when I had only ever read two books in my entire life.  She may have had a point.  But, lucky for you, those two books were about running, so this still seemed like a good idea.

My teenage daughter, Addy, also thought the idea was absurd, joking that I would have to ask her and Jen to spell every other word in this book; words like condescending and absurd. But the joke's on her, because if God would have wanted me to know how to spell, then he wouldn’t have invented spell-check, or the ever embarrassing, autocorrect.  However, she may have also had a point, so you should probably prepare yourself for the ill-timed wiener when I mean winner or the ever popular replacement of muscle cramps with menstrual cramps.  Think of these as Easter Eggs, and that it is your job to find them all.  Then, count how many you have and compare it to the number of eggs that all of your friends find.  The wiener can send all corrections to Addy, where she can stick them where the sun doesn't shine!

Well, back to the point, as I am sure you are still wondering if you want to waste your time reading this book or not.  To help you decide, here are a few things to consider:

● I have never written a book but I have read a few in my time, so I am pretty sure that I can do this.

● I have been running for more than 20 years, at various levels, so I know a thing or two about the subject.

● I am probably just like you, maybe a little faster (statistically speaking that is, not trying to be a jerk here), so you might be interested in what I have to say.

● I can’t promise that you will learn anything by reading this book, but I do hope to entertain you.

● Maybe you know me, and you promised to read this...PROMISED to read this.

● You have nothing better to do...LIKE GO FOR A RUN.  Just kidding, as you should certainly go for a run.  But maybe you should wait until this book is available on Audio Book, then I can run with you.

● Did I mention that some of you promised to read this book?

*Note - As I mentioned earlier, I have no idea what I am doing, so I changed the name(s) of people in this book.  If I wrote something about you, and you REALLY want your name in here, let me know, I will change it...but please don’t sue me!

In The Beginning

My life seems to be measured in miles, rather than time.  A case could be made for the time that it takes to run those miles, but MILES are certainly the star of the show. Miles consume my thinking, my wellbeing, my conversations, my diet and sleeping patterns, the way that I choose to spend my money and how I budget my time. I measure the number of miles that I run in a day, week, month, season and year.  I set goals around running miles, and become grouchy when I don’t achieve them. Miles seem to click by like an odometer, and future events become closer with each passing mile, like I am on a never ending highway.

Everyone who knows me asks about my miles, and we can spend hours talking about them.  Complete strangers and I have miles in common - you and I could probably hold a fairly meaningful conversation, just about miles.  I could fill this entire book with the stories about my miles; the fastest ones, the hardest ones, the miles with friends, the miles against enemies, the miles that I have watched my wife and children run, the miles that I plan to run and the miles that I should have already run.  Some miles I will never forget, and others are hard to remember the very next day...speaking of that, don’t forget to log your miles. You might not care about the log today, but I will guarantee that you will someday.

So, by now, you can probably tell that this chapter is building up to something great, probably better than a 100-mile week.  I just know you will feel the same way when it is finished, but like every run, you can’t get to the end without running that first mile. So here it is, the story of my first mile...

I wrestled in junior high because it was the thing to do at Goodrich Jr. High in Lincoln NE.  I think I remember going out for track, but I only lasted a day or two because I hated to run, and mostly, I just wanted to mess around.  When we would run to cut weight for wrestling, I was good at it, but it wasn’t a competition, so I didn’t pay much attention to it.  It wasn’t until the summer before my sophomore year that I considered running, just to be running.  I was teaching kids how to swim that summer, and a fellow instructor convinced me to do a team triathlon with him and another. He was going to swim, our buddy would bike, and I would run.  My part was 3.1 miles, and I remember practicing for it the night before.  In fact, if I remember correctly, I didn’t even run a step until 24 hours before the race; so much for being prepared! Even still, I was pretty sure that I could make it, although I had never run further than 2 miles in my life.

The day of the race was HOT, full summer in Nebraska hot, and I had no idea what I was doing.  I remember stopping to walk 2-3 times in that 5k, before sprinting the final quarter mile. For some strange reason, I remember my time like it was yesterday; 24:30.  I wasn’t proud of it, because I had nothing to compare it to.  I vaguely remember our team winning some age group award, but that is long lost. It was fun, but I was pretty sure that my running days were behind me.

When I started high school that fall, I met a member of the cross country team.  We had choir together, and were talking about wrestling.  He was a really good wrestler, and I was deciding if I should try out or not.  He said he ran cross country to stay in shape, and that I should consider it.  I mentioned that I ran a 5k a couple of months earlier, and we began to talk about Cross Country. He said that I had run a really good time, and that I should consider coming out for Cross Country.  Looking back at it, I appreciate little Rob inflating my ego to boost the team’s numbers, but I soon learned that he had mastered the art of lying, and that my meager time of nearly 25 minutes was far from competitive.

Being at a new school, and not knowing very many people just yet, I decided to try this Cross Country thing out.  I can remember my very first practice, but mainly because we ran 3 miles, and I had to run it with the girls. Some of them were hot, so it wasn’t all that bad.  My first meet came just a few days after joining the team, and it was a hot September day in Fremont NE.  I hated almost every second of that race. The hills, the grass, the stupid golf course, this dumb bridge that we had to run over a couple of times. I walked twice in that race, and I can’t tell you what I ran, because I didn’t care.  I was pretty sure that I would throw up, and positive that I was going to quit the team.

When we got back to the bus I was praised by my teammates for finishing, and handed a Popsicle.  A freaking Popsicle!  This was just what the doctor ordered.  Because of that Popsicle and the team comradery, I decided not to quit.

NOTE to all of the coaches reading this book - Always have popsicles!

So, rather than quit, I started to take it seriously.  I was running every day, including Saturday mornings, and my times were starting to improve.  I improved my 5k time that season by a minute from every race to the next: 22:00, then 21:00, then 20:00, then 19:00. By the end of the year, and in my last race, I ran 18:24 - I remember this specifically because at LNE, if you broke 18:30, you automatically lettered in Cross Country. I had beaten a couple of the guys that had run varsity, and I knew that I had found my thing.

Rather than run during the off-season, or even try out for the wrestling team, I decided to try my hand at the swim team.  Remember, I had spent a few months that summer teaching kids to swim, so I was a pretty good swimmer, but what I didn't know is that I was not a particularly fast swimmer.  I stuck with it for a month or so, but ultimately decided that I should be running...the fact that those practices were SO hard that I would get sick after each workout reinforced my decision.

That winter went well, and I became friends with all of the serious/varsity runners.  I think my coaches saw some potential in me, because they now expected me to keep up with the fast guys, and were talking about using me for the 4x800 relay, whatever the hell that was.  When Track rolled around, I quickly learned what an 800 felt like, and settled into my standard triple of the 4x800, 1600 and 3200.  Occasionally I would run a 4x1600, or distance medley, but I sure ran a bunch of 800’s and 2-mile races.  My times were decent that first track season, but nothing to write home about.  More than anything, I had a ton of fun.  It was cool to get out of school early to go to Omaha for a meet, or hear the spectators scream when you came down that front stretch. It was awesome, purely awesome.  I didn’t go to state that first year, but I learned a lot.  I now knew what intervals were, and a cool new term; Fartlek!

Towards the end of that first track season, my left leg started to hurt.  My doctor had no idea what it was, so Coach suggested that I speak with someone at the University of Nebraska.  My mom took me to the appointment, and we learned that I had a benign tumor on the side of my shin.  I was told to stay off of it for 3 months, and prescribed a steady diet of 6 aspirins a day.  I remember still going to