Photo by Sukanto Debnath
I can count the number of times I've run for sport or necessity. They stand out to me because running was so frightening that the act meant something far more than physical activity or a quicker method of transport. Struggling with asthma in my youth, I have never run for "fun." I have always run in fear of something. Each time I've ran has been more like an involuntary episode of insanity, knowing that most likely I'd be ill or hyperventilating. No one willfully puts themselves in that position unless compelled by something stronger than the fear of running.
I can remember every time I’ve run. I never knew if I'd be okay. I couldn't trust myself, my body, to know when to stop, to know when I'd had enough.
Boots
There was the time I was riding my bike and it was hijacked by a loose dog on the attack. I remember seeing Boots, a giant rust colored mutt, bounding down the street as I gazed behind me and ran into a car. After hitting the pavement I was subsequently toppled and molested by Boots. I can assure you it was one of the most scarring experiences of my youth. I clawed my way free of him, and barely ventured outside afterward unless I could see Boots was tied up. Later we requested (sadly) that Boots be put down for escaping his home for the 100th time and nearly killing our family pet. It was obvious he was unfit to roam.
Going The Mile
I do not suffer from "real" asthma, but exercise-induced asthma, so in sixth grade my gym teacher forced me to run the state-recommended mile despite my protestations. Every time I'd slow to a walk he'd yell out, "Run!" and I ended up finishing a good 10 minutes behind every other child. Despite the humiliation of being chided in front of my peers, coming in last, and vomiting in the middle of the gymnasium, I was pleased my teacher learned (with mop in hand) he probably should have trusted my judgment.
I can remember every time I’ve run. I never knew if I'd be okay. I couldn't trust myself, my body, to know when to stop, to know when I'd had enough.
Boots
There was the time I was riding my bike and it was hijacked by a loose dog on the attack. I remember seeing Boots, a giant rust colored mutt, bounding down the street as I gazed behind me and ran into a car. After hitting the pavement I was subsequently toppled and molested by Boots. I can assure you it was one of the most scarring experiences of my youth. I clawed my way free of him, and barely ventured outside afterward unless I could see Boots was tied up. Later we requested (sadly) that Boots be put down for escaping his home for the 100th time and nearly killing our family pet. It was obvious he was unfit to roam.
Going The Mile
I do not suffer from "real" asthma, but exercise-induced asthma, so in sixth grade my gym teacher forced me to run the state-recommended mile despite my protestations. Every time I'd slow to a walk he'd yell out, "Run!" and I ended up finishing a good 10 minutes behind every other child. Despite the humiliation of being chided in front of my peers, coming in last, and vomiting in the middle of the gymnasium, I was pleased my teacher learned (with mop in hand) he probably should have trusted my judgment.
Absoluten Rekord
I spent one summer a few years back in Croatia, and took up jogging while I was there. There were a lot of starts and stops, and I think the longest I ever got up to was 1 mile, but it served me well on the trip home. The connection from Croatia to the US via the Frankfurt airport is one of the most difficult to catch. Once a day a 15 minute window opens to allow for deplaning, train transport between terminals, and re-boarding. I had no intention of missing the plane, kicked off my flip-flops and ran barefoot through the Frankfurt airport. It was one of those crazy scenes where I was gripping a small satchel and some paintings that couldn't be packed. In my mind I recall hearing a frenzied Vivaldi String Quartet. I arrived at the terminal to cheers of German airline employees exclaiming, "Absoluten Rekord!" and huddling around to view the woman who had made the shortest connection they can recall.
Anniversary
I ran last week. It was a desperate run. It wasn't for exercise, but for expression. Expression of those fears I talked about earlier. You see, it's October. And I hate this month. I absolutely hate it. I hate the rain, I hate the feelings, I hate the dreams. I hate the familiar panic and pulse and pound of the memories of last year. My mind wanders, Was today the day he had the stroke? Or that I screamed throughout the halls of Beaumont Hospital?
My father died almost a year ago and I have been avoiding thinking about it or talking about it, hoping it simply will go away. I ran to get away from it, because it's coming. This inevitable, horrible thing, hanging over my head. It's coming. I want it to leave me alone. But I know it won't.
I can learn from running, from what it's trying to tell me. I actually think it's trying to tell me to stop. Pay attention. Remember. Cry. But running away? It won’t work.
Anniversary
I ran last week. It was a desperate run. It wasn't for exercise, but for expression. Expression of those fears I talked about earlier. You see, it's October. And I hate this month. I absolutely hate it. I hate the rain, I hate the feelings, I hate the dreams. I hate the familiar panic and pulse and pound of the memories of last year. My mind wanders, Was today the day he had the stroke? Or that I screamed throughout the halls of Beaumont Hospital?
My father died almost a year ago and I have been avoiding thinking about it or talking about it, hoping it simply will go away. I ran to get away from it, because it's coming. This inevitable, horrible thing, hanging over my head. It's coming. I want it to leave me alone. But I know it won't.
I can learn from running, from what it's trying to tell me. I actually think it's trying to tell me to stop. Pay attention. Remember. Cry. But running away? It won’t work.
1 Comments:
Ha! I had a barefoot run through the Frankfurt Airport myself years ago. Decided to backpack through Europe. This will have to be a blog post in itself. Crazy. Anyway, I was wearing sandals (Birkenstocks - back in the day) and it just would not do with the 40 pounds on my back and running. So off I went. Barely made it.
Running is good. I've come to this conclusion. Besides the obvious part of being physically healthier and more energy, it clears mind more effectively than anything else. After a good run, you'll have a calm demeanor all day. Of course, there's a price to entry - getting over the initial challenges of not being used to it. Takes about 2 weeks of it. Every time is easier. Probably much more of a challenge if you've bad experiences. The anxiety of them coming back probably doesn't help much. I'm convinced though that it would work for you. There have been some great books written on the subject icluding "Chi Running", which is a book that sort of blurs the lines of tai chi and running. Sort of a spiritual, mind/body thing. Jeff Galloway has a good series too on his "run/walk" theorgy of getting started. Winter is a great time to get into it (really). Of course there is running on treadmills with your iPod, but outside is great. I know, you think I' crazy, but if you bundle up, it's very rewarding.
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