I wasn’t a runner. I never wanted to be a runner. It’s really weird, I know. I got started running years ago when I was forced to by angry loud men and women in Smokey the Bear hats. I really didn’t like it, but I didn’t have any say in the matter, so I learned to cope.
The problem was that I ended up being pretty good at it. I ended up keeping track of my run times and trying to run farther and faster because I liked looking at the numbers change in my little notebook, and hey, I’ll admit it, it’s an ego/testosterone boost to go out and run faster than other folks. Pathetic, I know. I even got to the point that I did the Honolulu Marathon once. It really hurt, but now I can say I ran a marathon. That’s cool, right?
Later, I kept running to try to keep my weight low enough so that small objects would stop orbiting me. I didn’t think much about it. I was just trying to be a little healthier, and it was the easier choice, because lord knows I’m not giving up nachos.
The reason I give myself for running now is that it actually helps me think. Two or three times a week, I go out for about a half hour, and try to think something through. There is something that brings clarity when I run. There’s no computer. None of my neglected books or papers sit at the edge of my vision like they do in my office.
On Wednesday, I was trying to think through a new approach to a paper I need to write. Sometimes I talk to myself out loud to try out the way a phrase sounds. Maybe it’s the blood rushing all over, but sometimes I think a little more clearly when I’m trying to block out the pain in my legs. And thankfully, the runners I meet on the trail seem to be perfectly ok with guys running around chatting to themselves.
But one even nicer thing about a good run is when I don’t have any baggage at all. I can just think about the basic world as it is. Wind on my sweat. Mechanics of my stride – push the legs out a little farther and see if my breath can keep up. Weaving of the trail through the tall grass. Trail opening up into the big field. Squirrel staring at me like I’m crazy. Cliffs. Ditches. Shade. Sun.
2 comments:
I fought a long hard battle with tendonitis, and if I stop runnning for long enough, it sometimes even comes back. The only reason I think I was able to get through it was that I was forced.
I've had people tell me it's becasue I had the wrong shoes, or that I was running with an improper stride, or all sorts of wacky things. There is only one solution I've ever heard of that worked: run through the pain.
God, doesn't that sound like awful advice? I'm not even sure I'd advise someone to take that advice. If you've never had tendonitis, be glad. The pain is truly dibilitating, so I don't blame you for taking up bladeing.
great! remind me that i need to exercise...
if only i hadn't bought that infernal game.
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