Ditching the Watch

By: Erin Wood

Hi all! It has been 1 year, 9 months, and 16 days since my last blog post.

It's been a minute. So, let me update you on the things that have happened in this time:

I GOT ENGAGED TO THE LOVE OF MY LIFE
I landed my dream job (I'll be moving back to Texas)
I've started relearning how to run.

As you read this, you may be asking “Erin, why are you having to relearn how to run?” Well, it’s for a number of reasons. Gaining weight. Not being motivated to run. Reaping the consequences of running the OKC Marathon in 2022-- severely undertrained. They say “use it or lose it” and after not running consistently for almost two years, I have definitely lost it.

This marks the third time in my life I’ve had to start from ground zero when running. The first time I was 15, which probably doesn’t count because I was already running for other sports, I just started running farther. The second time was when I was 23/24 and started running again in grad school after years of dormancy (which were interspersed with half-marathons because from 19-24 I guess I was still young enough to avoid the consequences of running long distances without training). And, now, I’m 30, almost 31, starting the process all over again.

Thinking of the past attempts, this relearning experience should have been the hardest. I’m older. I’ve gained around 70 pounds since my last attempt (…. don’t get me started on that). I’m running by myself instead of a group. Yet, while this may be the hardest physically it’s been to relearn how to run, it’s honestly been much easier mentally than last time.

Why? Because I stopped wearing a running watch.

When I first started running in high school I would run completely “free”— no phone, no iPod (this was the age before Spotify), no headphones. Running was my reprieve and my time to be alone in my thoughts. Which, for someone who was severely bullied, was maybe not the best thing for my mental health. Alas, I had a 3-mile route that went from my parents' house down to the Krispy Kreme and a 5-mile route that went down to the Krispy Kreme and down the hill to the walking trail around Mega Church. Sometimes I would push it to 7 miles by running down to the sports-goods store too. I never really knew how fast I was, but I could do the 3-mile route in less than 25 minutes and the 7-mile route in around an hour. Something about this naivete that felt "free" no matter how fast I was running.

Although I ran a bit when in undergrad, I didn't truly get back into running until I was well into my graduate career (~2018). By this time, I had definitely lost the ability that I had once taken for granted. As I struggled to keep up on group runs, I couldn’t help but compare myself to the former version of myself. My pace was at least four minutes per mile slower than it had been; I felt a lot of anger at myself for not keeping up running in college and letting my pace drop so much. I was constantly having to come up with mental excuses for why I was so much slower— unwilling to admit that a slower pace was the natural consequence of not running.

I vividly remember running around Boomer Lake in Stillwater and feeling upset when I looked down at my watch only to see that my average pace was 10:30/mi (a pace I would now kill for). My legs almost immediately slowed down as if my brain was telling them "well, if we aren't as fast as we used to be, why even try?" I felt so discouraged. Nevertheless, I kept at it and eventually got up to running marathons and an ultra marathon, too. Yet, I couldn't shake that resentment I had towards myself as I thought about how I could have been faster had I not taken time off.

Now, fast forward to 2025. It's been approximately six months since I restarted my running journey. When I started this journey, I was fully expecting to become my own "Anti-Hero"-- doubling the resentment that I felt seven years ago. Instead, this time around, I have been surprised at how much grace and love I have given myself. I started a Couch-to-10k program and have been focusing on form over speed. I've let myself take time off. I've adjusted "goals" when I realized that I may not be trained enough (I would like not to have to start from ground zero again). It has been a delight.

When I started the training program (I've been using this app), I started on a treadmill so that I could easily switch between running and walking, but later transitioned to outdoor running when the chunks became longer because I loathe treadmills. Since then, I've found my go-to 3-mile route, and have been learning how to add various streets and loops to add mileage. On these runs, I have left the watch behind and have felt completely free. Sure, sometimes I realize that I miscalculated my distance from home and end up walking another 15 minutes home. But there is something divinely wonderful about these miscalculations that brings me an insane amount of joy.

So, to end— if you’re having issues getting back into running, I highly suggest not having a constant reminder of the “what could have been” right there on your wrist. If you’re like me and you’re still curious about the distance you’ve gone or want to see the wonky picture of the route you took, I highly suggest using a tracking app like Strava or MapMyRun. I’ve been able to start the app, turn on some Taylor Swift, and then shove my phone in my sports bra and forget it for 45-80 minutes. It’s been great.

Maybe one day I’ll move completely away from tracking altogether— we’ll see. But, I can almost guarantee you it will be a long time before I go back to the watch. There will always be people faster than me. At this point in my athletic journey, I care more about racing my past self than others, but I’m learning to love the me that I am instead of resenting the fact that she’s not the me that I could have been.