By Christopher Cudworth

When you start to know

There are few absolutes in the world, and pointing to the moment in time when you knew you would be a runner or a cyclist is a little tough to pin down for most.

If, as an adult, you decided it was time to do something about your weight and you starting running or riding (or both) as an exercise program, then you probably have a clearer history than most.

For some it is not so clear. There might be early experiments in running when you were in gym class, and you kind of liked the feel of it. But it was probably uncoool to really like it when your friends were all complaining that they had to run two whole miles in gym class.

The epiphany conversion

In 7th grade our gym teacher had us participate in one of those physical skills programs where you climbed ropes, did pushups and other exercises, and run as fast and far as you could in 12:00.

I ran two miles. In Red Ball jets. And that gave a hint that I might be a runner.

The accidental truth

That next spring in baseball our team had practices in early March. The coach wanted us to get in shape as we learned fundamentals. At the end of practice he had us all do 10 pushups and then run around a flagpole way out in centerfield. I was beating everyone back to home plate by the full length of the ball diamond. So he made me do 12 pushups, then 15, then 20, until it nearly evened out the time spent doing pushups with the time it took to catch everyone and reach home plate again after a lap around the flagpole.

I hated pushups. But loved the challenge. It was a fearsome challenge looking up after 20 pushups on skinny arms to find half the team half the way to the flagpole. But then off I’d tear. Determined to beat the lot of them.

The coaches marveled at this competitive streak. They also knew I needed to do pushups, my arms were so skinny. But catching everyone on the team at the end of every practice also gave a hint that running might fit into my future.

The decision made for you

But it was my dad that really decided it for me. Come freshman year in high school, I dearly wanted to go out for football. Yet I weighed 128 lbs and was nearly 6′ tall. That sport would have ruined me even though I won the Punt, Pass and Kick title in our little town and advanced to districts.

Instead my father took me to the high school the first day of fall sports and said, “There’s the cross country locker room. You go in there. And if you come out, I’ll break your arm.”

So it was decided. And cross country suited me perfectly, wicking off the manic energy of an anxious, creative mind and turning me into a real runner. Skinny legs and all.

We all evolve one way or another

Deep down, we’re all mudskippers

It’s funny in a way that we can transmogrify from sports like baseball or football into runners. Sometimes the evolution is profound, like a mud skipper wading up from the slime, you suddenly find your flippers can do something useful other than walk up and down stairs. They can carry you to new sights, or pedal you up and down mountains, or across a state. Even a country. Pretty useful things, those flippers. Crawling up from the slime. You’ve evolved. Darwin would be proud of you.

The sport has carried me that way for 30+ years. Through every challenge in life, running has been there like a release. An intense and discomfiting release at times, but a release just the same.

Sometimes a gift

When cycling came along for me, it arrived through the gift of a Trek 400 steel frame bike from my brother-in-law. By then I knew how to handle the new obsession. Get out as often as you can. Watch and learn. Let the sport test you so that you can learn to test yourself.

It’s an amazing process we all go through, choosing our sports. Or having them choose us. It doesn’t matter. The result’s the same. There when you need it.

But at some point you know, and can tell yourself aloud when no one’s looking: “I’m a runner.” Or, “I’m a cyclist.” And if you say it’s so, it is. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.