Running Like the Wind—and Then Some
I remember it vividly: when I was six or seven years old, I spent nearly every afternoon playing with my siblings and the other kids in our village. The moment school ended, we were outside—running, laughing, chasing each other—until the sun went down. My mother would call us in for dinner, and then we’d be out again. Most of our games involved running, and I never wanted to stop.
I always wanted to run faster and farther than anyone else. If one of my friends reached a certain point, I had to reach that point and then go a little farther. If I didn’t, I’d return home feeling disappointed in myself.
Back then, we ran everywhere. We ran as if the devil himself were chasing us. There was a joy to it, a rush of freedom and fulfillment I still remember clearly.
From the Streets to the Schoolyard
In elementary school, soccer was everything. Later, in 1987, after Greece’s national basketball team defeated the Soviet Union in the European Championship final, we all dropped our soccer balls and picked up basketballs. We wanted to be like Nikos Galis, Panagiotis Giannakis, and the rest of the team that brought glory to our country.
I didn’t grow up with luxuries. My parents worked hard to support three children. We didn’t have cars or school buses. Every day, I walked more than a kilometer to school carrying a bag full of books—easily over five kilos. Over the years, those daily walks helped build both my endurance and my physique.
High School and the Spark of Competition
In high school, I continued playing soccer and basketball, and I even trained with the local village team. Then one day, my father told me something that would shape my future in a way I couldn’t have imagined. He casually mentioned that, during his own high school years, he had run competitively—and once placed third in a race.
The very next morning, I told my gym teacher that I wanted to join the track team. He didn’t offer much support. Whether due to disinterest or lack of experience, he gave me no guidance. So I trained myself the only way I knew how: run until my lungs burned, stop, rest, and then do it again.
For three months, a substitute teacher took over our gym classes. Unlike the overweight, chain-smoking regular teacher, this new coach was fit, tall, and full of energy. He put me on a proper training program and coached me consistently right up to the district high school competition.
With his guidance, I ran the 1,000-meter race and finished in first place.
That Winning Feeling
I still remember the pride and euphoria of crossing that finish line first. There’s something indescribable about working hard, giving everything you have, and achieving something few thought possible. For a few seconds, I felt like I was running alongside the gods of Olympus.
I wouldn’t have experienced that moment had my father never shared his story. That small remark—barely more than a sentence—ultimately helped shape my life and health decades later. His influence planted the seed of running in me, and it bloomed again when I needed it most.
After the Peak
The following year, I finished third in the 1,000-meter race and placed second in another district track event. But the substitute coach had moved on, and I was once again training alone—relying solely on my stamina and determination. Though I didn’t yet understand how to train properly, I pushed myself to the limit.
At 14, I was running 3 kilometers in 10 minutes—faster than a 5-minute mile. If I’d had consistent coaching, who knows where that path might have led? But by my final two years of high school, I stopped running to focus on academics. My future, at that point, no longer included athletic dreams.
Still, the love of running never left me. It lay dormant, waiting for the moment I would need it again—when I would return to it not just to compete, but to heal.
This is an excerpt from my first book Thirsty for Health. If it resonated with you, you can find the full version on Amazon—available in Kindle and paperback.
Discover more in my book: “42 tips that will make you a better runner” where I share my experience of more than ten years of running.
Disclaimer: This article shares personal opinions and experiences. It is not medical advice. Always consult a qualified healthcare professional before making any health-related decisions. Use this information at your own risk.
