running by the numbers

I've always had a difficult relationship with numbers.

Back in school, math and I never got along very well. Math was aloof ... I was afraid. Just not a good mix. I just couldn't pick math's brain to find my own way of feeling the numbers and learning just how they work.

I was too scared to stray away from the "rules" of school math, so I gave up. Math and I simply coexisted until we didn't need to anymore.

We rarely talked for years, meeting only for the occasional checkbook encounter or comparison shopping thing.

When my oldest son reached elementary school, his math curriculum was called Everyday Math and was based on the concept that math is everywhere, all the time. We shouldn't fear math! No! We should seek it out in all its glory, every single day.

Wow! That was different ... and kind of exciting, even. Learning math alongside my son the "everyday way," I discovered a freedom from the rules of my educational yesteryear. I could break numbers down in new and exciting ways and (gasp!) figure them in my head! A miracle.

Say what you like about Everyday Math -- or say what you don't like, as many mathmaticians and scientists and even parents do -- it completely freed me. And here's why: at a stage in my life when I didn't think I could learn anything new about how numbers work, Everyday Math proved me wrong.

It was a major revelation.

I won't lie. Numbers and I still walk on eggshells, and that has crossed over into my running life. I've seen great strides in my distance and abilities in the year I've been running but I'm still a very slow runner. A gentle pace for me is a good 12 minute mile. Sometimes I can break 11 minutes, but only when the planets are aligned.

My running friend Amy, by contrast, is a speed demon. Somehow, without effort, she shaves entire minutes off her time -- averaging about 8 minutes per mile.

AND she's a numbers person, a former engineer. Of course.

I always pictured fast runners to be like Olympic sprinters: arms pumping, knees high, feet lifted. Big movements, lightning speed. My own speed attempts resembled my everyday style of running, just a whole lot bigger. For me, big movements meant big exhaustion, but not much more speed. Those numbers were getting to me again.

Recently, Amy I and enjoyed a run together during a summer getaway to a nearby island. After our warm up mile, she took off at her pace, I stayed behind at mine. I watched her run and was surprised that her movements weren't big afterall. In fact, Amy's running style was a vision of efficiency. Small movements, feet barely skimming the ground ... lightning speed!

I didn't think much about it until last weekend's long run. At mile five I got bored and decided to try running Amy-style. I shortened my movements, picked up the pace and ran like I had somehere to go.

I ran fast! I was zooming! I could literally hear the wind rushing past my ears. Another miracle.

How can this be? We aren't taught how to run, we just do it naturally. So how could I pick up the pace so noticeably by changing my style, rather than just doing it bigger?

I've yet to check the "official" numbers on my pace, but I know my last three-miler was my fastest ever. All because I changed the way I look at running.

Like my math revelation, my running revalation feels HUGE. Numbers are finally smiling at me. Could they want to be friends afterall?

I'm bridging the numbers gap, mini-miracle by mini-miracle. And it feels good.