When I was a sophomore at UT (1972), I occasionally ran a few laps around the track at Memorial Stadium and I did so again during a semester at Stephen F. Austin State University (1975). My first race took place four years later in Denton, and I have been fairly—some would say fanatically—consistent since that time. For better or worse, I am consistent.
All the experts are in agreement that it is best to vary your workouts in terms of speed, distance and frequency. You would be hard-pressed to find a knowledgeable coach who does not advocate taking a day off now and then. That might be twice a week, once a week, once a month or whatever suits you, but your body needs an occasional rest. I am aware of this, and it makes perfect sense but I tend to ignore it. You see, I am a streaker. While the term has another, less wholesome, definition, I mean only that I like to run many days in a row.
I have my reasons. Forgive me if I wax philosophical, but exercising makes me feel alive. It is a statement, both to myself and to the universe, that I am still vertical and breathing and joyous. I assert that a workout a day keeps the doctor away. Now, does that not contradict the views of the above-cited experts? To a certain degree, it does. But when practiced in moderation, it is less likely to hurt me than to help me. My heart, lungs, muscles, bones and ligaments—even my cells and mitochondria—are well served by such an approach. For a long time now, moderation has meant a minimum of two miles. I run at least two miles every day.
In the early 1980s, I had streaks of 50 or 60 days and took some pleasure therein. Another lasted 214 days. Then “Big Boy” began in April 1983. I had no intention of making this one especially long, but it eventually took on a life of its own. Around that time, I began racing quite often. Although most of the events were in Austin, I had no qualms about driving—alone or with friends—to races in neighboring cities like Buda, Round Rock, Elgin, Wimberley, Cedar Park, New Braunfels and Fredericksburg. I was always up for a 5K or 10K. In fact, in the mid-1980s I ran nearly 40 races per year.
The streak grew and grew. I vaguely remember celebrating one year of non-stop running in April 1984. And on it went—1985, 1986, 1987, etc. At this time, I was the running columnist for the Austin American-Statesman. I stayed away from the first-person stuff as much as possible, but mention was made of the streak once or twice. At the dawn of a new decade, the 1990s, I set a goal: If I could get to April 1993, I would call a halt to this foolishness by intentionally taking a day off.
The time came, and I celebrated with a group of friends at a Tex-Mex restaurant called Chuy's on Barton Springs Road. (Chuy's was and still is the sponsor of a very popular 5K.) Quite a few people gathered, and we discussed the streak and other topics over chicken enchiladas, beans, rice, chips and ice tea. Coincidentally, a three-year relationship with my then-GF was fast unraveling. The party followed yet another argument, and although she was by my side we barely spoke to each other the entire evening. A friend named Zarby pointed out that fact a day or two later.
The streak consisted of 3,653 days—exactly 10 years, three of which were leap years. Lest anyone feel too impressed with my having run daily for a decade, others have gone further. Much further. For example, Dr. Harvey Simon of Boston has run every day for more than 30 years. If that were not enough, his minimum is 10 miles. Mine, you recall, is a piddling two. Even Dr. Simon is not at the far end of the spectrum since a few zealots have gone 40 years, even 50 years, without missing a day. I am a pretender in comparison with these guys.
Since moving to Korea 3 1/2 years ago, I have had a couple of 500-plus-day streaks. They were broken only because of trips back to what used to be home—the USA. Living in the Gangnam district of Seoul is not exactly conducive to running, but I do it daily. Rain or shine, I run. In simple terms, this is policy. When I get up in the morning, there is no debate about whether to go out for a run. No excuses are offered, and none are accepted. I do it every day, for the body and for the soul.
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