On May 9th, 2018, I ran a mile. It was rough–I hadn’t gone for a run in a long time but, as I’ve written about before, my career was in transition, and I was feeling very unsettled. Someone I went to high school with had posted about her run streak on Facebook a few days before that and I realized that I could do that too, and it would be something stable–something I could control when I didn’t know what to do in other parts of my life. So on that day I ran a mile. And the next day I ran another mile. And I just kept doing that. For more than four years.
Leading up to my surgery (to remove a basal cell carcinoma from my nose) last week, I knew there was a chance that my run streak might end. In a pre-op conversation with a nurse from the surgeon’s office she mentioned that I wouldn’t be able to exercise for at least a week, and possibly up to a month. I asked why, and explained that I had a run streak that had been going for years. She said it had to do with heart rate (the veins in the nose are tiny, and an elevated heart rate could cause issues with them healing properly). And the jostling wouldn’t be good for a wound either. Still, I held out hope that maybe I could do it and made a mental note to ask the surgeon if I got the chance.
On the day before my surgery I ran as normal in the morning. And then, because I wasn’t allowed to even drink water after 6am on the day of the surgery, I stayed up until after midnight and ran again, thinking that I would have until 11:59pm the day AFTER my surgery to get a run in to keep the streak alive. That just-after-midnight run was perfect. The weather was gorgeous, my canine running buddy behaved beautifully, I didn’t encounter a single car, and the moon was almost full, lighting my way on the dark country road.
That morning, as I lay in the hospital bed having been prepped for surgery, the surgeon came in the room and asked if I had any questions. I told him that it was probably silly, but I had a run streak, and I wanted to know if I could run if I promised to go as slow as possible and keep my heart rate under a certain threshold. He said no. And that was that. I woke up after surgery and found out that a hole about the size of a dime had been cut out of my nose and covered with skin that had been stretched over and down, and stitched into place. I knew that was the general plan, but the surgeon wasn’t sure before the surgery how much he would need to actually cut out to make sure he got it all. I wasn’t in a crazy amount of pain, and still, in the back of my mind I thought, “Well, maybe I’ll feel great by tomorrow night and can run anyway.” But the next night came, and although my pain level was still quite low, the amount of swelling and bruising on and around the site told me that to do anything that might make that worse would be a bad idea.
I don’t think I’m a vain person, but fear of causing an issue with healing had something to do with it too. I knew that there would be a scar, but to think about doing something that might pop a stitch and make the scar more noticeable, or otherwise impede healing seemed unwise. So, on Tuesday, June 14th, 2022, for the first time in 1,497 days, I didn’t run. Of course it bothers me that I was so close to 1,500 days–what a nice round number that would have been to end on. But oh well. What’s done is done. And, sadly, my run streak is done.
If I’m being honest, when the surgeon said no (and then stated specifically in my post-op paperwork/instructions, “No running or strenuous activity”), I was a little bit relieved. The streak was good for me in many ways, but it did occasionally stress me out, and it definitely wasn’t always easy. In my four years of running every day, I ran through a light ankle sprain, a mild case of COVID, stitches from having a cyst removed from a rather awkward spot, and (probably the most challenging), food poisoning. For about the last three years of my streak, I ran outside every day, in all kinds of weather from midwest humid summer heat to polar vortexes (and everything in between). I went through at least five pairs of running shoes. And the semblance of control I got from my streak did get me through some uncertain times.
At first I thought I would wait until I was released by the surgeon to exercise again, and immediately start another streak but, a few days removed from it now, I’m not so sure I want to. I’ve been enjoying the slow walks I’ve been going on with my dog, and I think she enjoys them too–she gets so much more time to sniff around when I’m not trying to keep her running with me. So, maybe, if I decide not to start another run streak right away, I’ll start a walking streak–that would be easier to maintain, and I think I might enjoy it more. But we’ll see. If I do start another run streak, I’ll probably set a goal to beat my first streak by three days–1,500 really is a nice number. But for now, I’m resting and allowing myself to heal. And although I may have shed a few tears, I’m now at peace with my run streak having come to an end. It was what I needed for a time, but my needs have shifted, and that’s okay. It’s an end, but it’s also the beginning of whatever I choose next for my life.
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