Thoughts and the Imaginary Button.

No, this is not a running log – that’s what my Flotrack is for.

Do they make Clif bars with fruit in them? Because Apple/Cinnamon would be really a good idea.

“I guess I can cross that off of my bucket list. Wait, was it ever on there in the first place? Well, I guess I’m a true runner now regardless.” – after a “nature break. I’ll leave what that break involved up to your imagination.

Yes, this is a running blog. There’s a difference, even if I’ve often used this blog as a personal journal to track the various events in my life.

“Either I’m having deja vu of another run, or it’s been longer than I thought since I ran this loop. How many yellow gates can there be?!”

I’m more likely to cry, cuss, or have some mental epiphany while running.

“I don’t know where I am – all I can see is trees, mountains, and more trees in whatever direction I’m looking towards. There are even trees where I thought the lake should be. I don’t know if this is a good or bad thing. At least I don’t feel super tired so I still have a chance of escaping some wild animal or random creepy hiker/biker.”

Oh, wow. *presses stop on watch to enjoy the view for a few minutes* Well, I know where I’m at now, time to head back! Definitely worth the trek for this view! The Pacific Northwest is beyond beautiful. *presses start on watch*


Above are a few thoughts that passes through my head as I did my long run at our local state park along the logging roads. The last little event at the bottom? Where I mention stopping my watch? Funny story about that actually. My watch never re-started. This means that upon poking down again, after another few miles, my watch still sat at 6.72 miles – the exact mileage I saw as I stopped for the view point.

My gal for the run was to 1) run 10 miles, and 2) measure the distance of a logging road loop from my house that I hadn’t run in a year or so. So much for that!


Once I realized that my watch hadn’t been keeping track of the mileage, I laughed a somewhat desperate laugh, and turned it off – realizing that the hills I’d just run, view I’d seen, and time running were enough. More than that, my endorphin-rich self took the event to a whole other level – that the button was imaginary. (Crazy, right? Believe me when I say that endorphins are a drug. Best part about running! ;-)

It didn’t matter whether my watch was stopped or started because, as I mentioned, I still ran the miles. Just because it wasn’t tracked by my fancy Garmin foot pod doesn’t mean that the run didn’t count towards my mileage for the week, or that I didn’t have the memories of that day. That has been one of my favorite runs in a long time. It was a beautiful day, I felt strong and was working hard, I was able to enjoy the beauty of nature, and relax in the moment – more confident in myself as an individual, and my running abilities.

The start/stop button on my watch isn’t what makes me a runner – the miles I post online, or even this blog post. They don’t brand me either. The miles I run, the way I feel, the simple action of putting one foot in front of the other – that’s what makes me a runner. That I commit to the run – no matter the possibility of getting lost, having to go to the bathroom, running more miles than necessary, or whatever else could happen out on the road or trails.


I love running for the simplicity. I love running for all of the beautiful moments I’ve been able to experience. I love running because of the discipline, commitment, and desire it demands.

One last thought before I post this stream of thoughts and wild theories.


“When I’m old, I’m going to have the best stories. I’ll be able to say, ‘Back when I was training for college I would run for up to two hours at a time in the woods near my house. I didn’t always know where I was going, or how far I had gone, but believe me when I say that I gave it my best effort. Those were some of the best times – challenging myself on the forever hills, putting in the work … even if that meant walking breaks, peeing in the woods, scaring random bikers, falling flat on my face over a tree root, stopping to soak my feet in the water, crying over how tired I was, or simply talking to myself to break the silence.'”



Until next time,





3 thoughts on “Thoughts and the Imaginary Button.

  1. Ok, I’m in. I think something broke in my head because after deciding to start running to warm up before workouts I decided to set running goals. I did my first 5k in May and then thought “what the heck, I should train for a half-marathon!” Have I gone completely crazy, or what? I ran my longest run in my entire life last Saturday when I ran 6 miles in Challis, Idaho at 6,200ft elevation. Our plan for now is to run the Salmon half-marathon in Riggins, ID on 9/13 and if that goes well I will keep training and plan on a full marathon in 2015.

    • Yepp, you’ve gone crazy – it’s official. Welcome to the life of a runner! :) That’s way cool, though! I knew you ran that 5K, but had no idea you were planning on a half! Man oh man, keep me updated! Best of luck with that – I haven’t run a race that far, but my farthest run ever has been 12 miles, so I’m close. :) 6 miles at elevation though? Wow – the lack of air kills so congrats! Can’t wait to hear more about your running and if we’re over in Idaho anytime soon, would love to join ya!

  2. I’ve had the same thing happen to me – forgot to start my running App after stopping. At first it’s aggravating to think you’ll never know how fast or how far you ran, but you’re right… we don’t necessarily run for that reason. In fact, I ran for years never knowing how far or how fast I had run. It’s nice to run “naked” sometimes and just enjoy the scenery.
    But if you’re like me, you’ll try it again, and not stop your watch. :)

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