What, may I ask, are you running from?

I don't know if I am alone here... I can't imagine that I am. I love to run trails. I would rather be running than doing anything else.

I usually run alone. I enjoy it. I can go the pace I want to go. I can go the distance I want to go. I can push myself too hard and complain later - and the only one to blame is myself. (Similar to living alone and leaving a pan in the sink, to be crustily found the next morning.) Usually at the beginning of each run, I have a talk with the Universe. I request to receive what the Universe believes I need. I request the unknown.

 

Sometimes I obtain peace, sometimes insight. Other times it is strength or power. I almost always obtain confidence. Sometimes it is a slew of memories, with the hope they are returning for me to be able to release them. I obtain tranquility. I obtain endurance. Sometimes it's anger, oftentimes it is fear. And sometimes, I just attempt to balance my budget.

Why would one run, if it oftentimes brings fear?

My runs that are flanked with fear, that leave me anxious and unnerved serve a purpose too. The Universe has its ways. I fear "scary wildlife and scary people", lightning, new injuries and whispers from injuries attempting arduously to heal. First of all, these runs, if continued on for enough miles, afford me the exhaustion to stop obsessing about the wildlife I think is at every corner. This is quite possibly the most enjoyable of the runs for me - once I reach this stage. Finally my mind just gives up - it can't afford the glucose of worry. I love running exhausted - for me, it is the absolute feeling of freedom. My friend Alex works closely to individuals who suffer with OCD. He explained to me once, that a way of desensitization, is to repeatedly do the thing that annoys the hell out of them, so sooner or later, their mind stops keeping count. I basically desensitize my fear with miles of exhaustion. I feel the more fear I experience while doing something I love, the more I love the lessons fear affords, and the less fear encroaches on my everyday life.

When some find out running has our hearts, they jovially ask us what we are running from. Myself, I laugh and speak of my love of the task. I get frustrated at their question. Why must all runners have skeletons in their closet? Maybe not all do. However, when I really think about their question, my answer may include a variety of answers in any given minute.

Well, since you ask, I run from incorrect grammar, heart disease, life patterns, diabetes, carbonated beverages, failure, bears, fear, perfectionism, bad jokes, shyness, dementia, laziness, anxiety, my love of puns, substances, weakness, cancer, being ordinary, snakes, memories, close-talkers, grouse, obesity, 90-degree angles, anger, darkness, tears, race shirts that are too large and a million other things. Basically, I guess I run from being human - a perfect human.