Brian Gold

For me, as a three-sport athlete in high school, running was something you did as part of another sport — not a sport in and of itself. When I left for college and put my formal athletic days behind me, the lack of any conditioning quickly turned the “freshman 15” into 50 by the time I was a senior. After college, I was playing softball in Milwaukee; as one summer turned into the next, a teammate said to me, “You’re not getting to as many balls in the outfield as you did last year.” I was slowing down as a result of the weight I was gaining. I knew something needed to be done.

So I joined the local YMCA and decided to start running. That first day, I couldn’t make it 10 minutes even at a slow pace. It was discouraging, but I was committed. I went back, starting off running for 10 minutes and then spending 20 minutes on the stair climber. Each week, I would add one minute of running, increasing the pace when I could. Eventually, I made it to a point where I was running for an hour, three times per week. I was losing weight, getting quicker and building conditioning. My love affair with running was beginning.

Somewhere in that process, I decided to enter a race. My first was the Bob Cross Memorial 5K in West Bend. I remember wondering if I would be able to complete the 3.1 miles. I was afraid of the hill in the middle, and I was afraid I would finish dead last. Amazingly enough (given how much I pay attention to this now), I can’t remember my time, but I know I wasn’t last.

It was a couple years later, after one too many beers at Summerfest, that I agreed to run my first half marathon. I remember someone saying, “If you can run six miles, you can run 13.1.” The following May, I ran the Cellcom Green Bay Half Marathon. I had three goals for that race: to finish, to not walk, and to not die. As it turned out, I achieved all of those and was pretty happy with my time, too. I remember after the race thinking it would probably be a one-time thing. But the excitement, the camaraderie and the desire to improve my time got me to sign up for the next race and then another. I just finished my 26th half marathon in May. Somehow I turned myself not only into a runner, but a distance runner as well.

The Green Bay Marathon used a motto I have always liked: Drive, grit and determination. To my mind, there are no better words to describe what it takes to be a runner. Running is not supposed to be easy — things that are good for you rarely are. It takes a certain amount of passion, drive and “want to” to be a runner (and probably a little bit of crazy). I have run in sun and heat, wind and rain, snow and cold. No matter what the conditions, nothing beats the feeling of finishing, especially on days where I don’t feel my best

There are things about running I love. You don’t have to have a ton of natural ability to be a runner; you just have to want to do it. Running is a community, no matter what your talent level may be. You are welcome at races, and your accomplishments are celebrated with all the runners. What other sport lets you participate in the same field as an Olympic level athlete? You can do that in running.

To borrow a quote from Yogi Berra, running “is 90 percent mental, and the other half is physical.” All it takes is a little “want to” and anyone can do it.