Tribute to My Virtual Running Partner

That's is Steve, my virtual running partner, hanging off a rock on the Swift Run Gap trail here in Virginia last May. I can't remember when we started "running together," and, in reality, we've actually only run together three times: once at a Crosswinds (NY) race three years ago, in which I beat him, though I didn't even know him yet; once on a winter day when we ran in the gym at Crosswinds church after helping set up about 700 chairs for a worship service to be held later in the day; and once at the Crosswinds 5K last September, in which he beat me. A little over a year ago when we learned that we both ran, we compared notes and realized we had both started running about the same time (less than five years ago).
In a phone call this week, Steve said he had just reached the 400 mile mark, as did I! I was so proud of him. And it was amazing to me that we hit that 400th just a couple days apart. He said he plans to run the Charlottesville Half Marathon with me in April. Now his training will be much more difficult than mine, as he will be dealing with the snow and cold of a Geneva NY winter (one of the Finger Lakes). He'll most likely cross-train on skis.
His training is also very different. Until we met, he didn't time his runs or pay that much attention to distance. Me on the other hand . . . until I met Steve, I tracked the time and distance of every run. He probably also enjoyed his runs more since he doesn't obssess over them. When I told Steve last fall that I'd be ecstatic if I met a certain goal, he said, "Static is okay."
And he's right. Even maintenance running demonstrates discipline. Besides a runner can only progress so far, and static is sure better than digressing (which is easy to do as one ages).
During our virtual partnership, though, as we've shared personal goals, disappointments and progress, our training methods have become a tad bit more similar. Steve knows he made 400 miles this year, so he is tracking the length of his runs. He also has timed some of them. I'd like to think that seeing those statistics, seeing proof that he's making progress, has encouraged him and brought even more joy to his runs. I, on the other hand, have stopped timing every run, am obssessing a bit less, and run more often just for the fun of it.
The numbers also show something else. Our rate of progress has been very similar. Our mileage is nearly the same. He's a little faster; he's also nearly 10 years younger and (since he's 10 inches taller) has a longer stride. So neither Steve's method nor mine is completely wrong or right. It's the day-to-day discipline, not our approach to the sport, that has made us both stronger.
And accountability, the one tactic we both share, has been a good thing for both of us, as it is for most runners. Having a running partner (even though a virtual one) has provided encouragement. Our effort, we know, matters to someone else. Someone else cares whether we fail or win. Steve congratulated me with enthusiasm when I won my gold medal and ran the Staunton 10 Miler. I hooped and hollered when he ran his first 7-miler, and when he hit his 400th mile. Accountability also provides motivation. Neither one of us wants to have to say to the other, "I just slacked off today..." (though we both have done that on a couple occasions, but we always get right back at it, not wanting to tempt the other to slack off, too).
And come the end of January we'll both be pushing a little bit harder. That's when we'll start training for that Half Marathon--a shared goal. He'll need much more drive and self discipline though to keep him running in the snow and cold of a NY winter. Hopefully the promise of a spring break in the south will provide extra motivation and keep him running strong and steady. "Slog on, Bro...see you at the Half. I am so proud of you!"