I am not an addict

My diminishing miles this year and impending surgery have given me lots to think about.  There are some consequences to the decreased miles: my legs are a little softer, I don’t feel my oblique muscles quite as well, and I take a breath every four strides instead of six.  It is starting to cause some concern, since although I’ve scaled back, I am still running.  What is going to happen when I stop running altogether for the winter?  How will I cope?  My friends warn me to find another hobby to fill the void, because addicts need to get their fix.  What?  I am not an addict.

        Friends, do-gooders, those that mean well, and cynics all sneer at me for continuing to run on a heavily damaged hip.  (Except for Scott, who encourages me to keep running no-matter-what.  I’m pretty sure this is either because he lives in Missouri and can’t see me limping, or…)  When people question why I would continue to punish my body and I try to justify, they quip: You’re an addict.  I am not an addict.  

        Although I know I’m not an addict, I decided to lay it all out on the line and demonstrate how my behavior is in no way similar to an addict.  I researched addiction behavior at About.com, and then inserted my actual behavior. 

Symptoms of addiction

“Tolerance – the need to engage in the addictive behavior more and more to get the desired effect”.

My behavior: When I first started running, it was a quarter mile at a time.  I eventually worked up to running 20 minutes in a row.  Then I started 10k races.  When I conquered the 10k I moved up to 15k.  Since I can do a 15k, might as well do a half marathon.  With three half marathons under my belt this year, I had my sights set on the Boston Marathon next Spring, until this injury sidelined me.

“Withdrawal – when a person does not…engage in the activity, and they experience unpleasant symptoms, which are often the opposite of the effects of the addictive behavior”.

My behavior: When I run often my muscles are solid, my mood is positive, my sleep is sound.  When I don’t run as often I feel lumpy, which makes me feel grouchy, which makes for a lousy night’s sleep.

“Difficulty cutting down or controlling the addictive behavior”.

My behavior: Cutting down running is difficult indeed, since it would jeopardize my upcoming races!  I also find that I sometimes can’t control my running very well.  For instance, sometimes I dream of running a 7:30 pace, but my body only gives me a 9:00.

“Social, occupational or recreational activities becoming more focused around the addiction, and important social and occupational roles being jeopardized”

My behavior: A lot of my friends are running buddies, which keeps things pretty social.  I also belong to a running club, which keeps me motivated.  My lunch hour at work is almost never spent eating or socializing with non-runners.  It is used to sneak in a few miles with my running pals.  On rare occasion we may sneak in a couple extra miles, making me a tad bit late returning to work.  I have also been known to blow off important social events due to running.  I couldn’t go out New Year’s Eve because of the New Year’s Day 5k.  Same with Thanksgiving Eve.  Last Saturday I blew off my cousin’s summer bash in New Hampshire so I could kill myself in a 10k race.

“The person becoming preoccupied with the addiction, spending a lot of time planning, engaging in, and recovering from the addictive behavior”

My behavior: Last year I put together a running log, in lieu of using Nike+ or Daily Mile or any of those applications.  I listed out all of my race accomplishments, and started tracking miles, time, pace, weather conditions, etc.  Towards the end of the year I put together a new one for this year.  At that time I also planned out all of my 2011 races (with wiggle room to add more if exciting ones popped up).  And finally, I mapped out all of this information, along with my wild and crazy thoughts, into this silly blog.  When I’m not planning my runs I’m engaging in them, and when I engage in hard effort runs, I spend a lot of time recovering from them.

The article goes on to describe some of the specific signs of addiction.

·         Extreme mood changes: Yessss!  I’m leading!  Shit!!!! I got passed!

·         Sleeping a lot more or less than usual: The night before a half marathon = less sleep due to anxiety.  The night after a half marathon = coma

·         Changes in energy: Really, need I explain this one?

·         Weight loss or weight gain: Again… self explanatory

·         Seeming unwell at certain times: “Jill, you can barely walk.  Are you okay?”  Yup, terrific!  This is my normal gait.

·         Pupils of the eyes seeming smaller or larger than usual: This usually comes right after I exit a trail run onto the road

·         Secretiveness: Telling nay-sayers I ran only 4 miles when I really ran 7

·         Changes in social groups (my running club) new and unusual friends (Todd is both new and unusual) and odd cell-phone conversations: Sample of average text message: WANNA MEET AT NOON? Yes, did you bring soap? YES, BUT I NEED TO BORROW YOUR TOWEL.

·         Repeated unexplained outings, often with a sense of urgency: When the lunch runners hit the pavement, we are generally running before the door closes behind us.

·         Stashes of drugs, often in small plastic, paper, or foil packages: I have been known to stash sports beans, GU, and Hammer Nutrition packets discretely in my pocket.

I AM NOT AN ADDICT.