My 8-Minute Obsession

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder is serious business, but it has become part of our popular culture; these days, it seems, everyone is OCD about something. One of mine is doors. For some reason, I need to check a door three times when leaving the house or going to bed. Among OCDs, it is pretty minor; in fact, it probably doesn't even qualify as OCD in the clinical sense. I guess it is more of an obsession.

Obsession is an interesting thing. It can take on many forms. You can obsess about people, about jobs, about money...there is no limit to what people can turn into the objects of their obsessions. Managed properly, obsessions are quite harmless and can even be harnessed into positive outcomes. Left unfettered, though, they can become very destructive, both to the person who has the obsession and anyone coming into contact with it.

I've been in that situation. You see, I have an 8-minute obsession. It all started in the 9th grade, when a friend of mine convinced me to run track--why he was doing it, or why he thought I would enjoy it, I have no idea. But run I did, and I managed to find a hobby that would, at times, become my primary obsession.

First of all, let me say that I have never been all that good of a runner. The two years that I ran track (9th & 11th grades) and the two that I ran cross country (11th & 12th) I was, at best, slightly worse than average. But I enjoyed the actual act of running, and I enjoyed hanging out with my teammates. About the only time I could have been considered a decent runner was a few years in my late 20s and early 30s, when I placed highly in my age group in some local runs.

I also don't really consider myself a runner; I am more of a jogger. The difference between the two varies from person to person and running magazine to running blog; for me, the distinction between the two is 8:00. That's not an hour. That's a pace. In my mind, if you can run miles consistently at a sub-eight minute pace, then you are a runner; if your pace is slower than that mark, you are a jogger.

At various times in my adult life, I have actually qualified as a runner--well, according to my definition, anyway When I lived in Indianapolis, I ran the mini-marathon a few times, and my average pace was in the 7:40-7:45 range. For shorter distances, my pace could get down to about 7:00 per mile. But there was a cost. I had to run pretty much everyday, and I would get antsy if I had to miss even one session. My running watch was always close by, and I would religiously track every run...even making sure I wouldn't cut any corners for fear of gypping myself out of even 1/100 of a mile. Yes, you could say I was obsessed with that damn 8:00.

These days I run exclusively because I enjoy it (some of you would consider that another form of mental illness). And while I like to improve as a jogger/runner, I have to be very wary of becoming slave to that magical 8:00. During the winter, I use a treadmill and cannot help but notice my pace. I methodically increase it all winter so I am close to running shape by the time I can start going outside regularly (in northern Indiana, that's about mid-May for me). But once I get outside, I pretty much abandon the stopwatch and Google Maps on the PC and just go. It is very difficult after a long winter of pacing, and, yes, on occasion I will time myself to see how I am doing, but mostly my running is a true exercise in letting go.