If there’s one thing about me that has always perplexed and
intrigued people (trust me, there’s not just
one), it would be why I run.
This
question is invariably posed to me by people that don’t run. Because to put it
succinctly, runners already know why they run. That’s not to say that runners
are elitist or snobby (In general terms anyway, my apologies to any beginners
that have crossed paths with those runners)
and won’t share with you the hidden mystery of why they run. They most
certainly will. In all likelihood they will do so until you have heard more
than you’d like to know, and regret asking to begin with.
I may
end up doing that now to an extent, but my guess is if you made it this far
into this piece your probably content with reading at least some of what’s behind the run.
Though
I think to answer the question of why my feet are continually pounding the
pavement, it may be best to start with the few reasons I don’t run…
…I’m
human, I get lazy. There are times when a beer, a nap or reruns of Pawn Stars (Yes
it gets that bad) are infinitely more appealing than getting up and doing
anything, at all. Sometimes I put off a workout, knowing I will feel guilty
about it later, and would’ve felt better both mentally and physically had I
just been motivated to do something over
nothing.
So why
do I run? Well where do I start...
I run
because I’m stubborn, fiercely competitive with myself, a glutton for
punishment, want to feel invincible, defy my age, improve myself, prove
something to myself, for my Dad, because I lack the coordination for most other
sports, to feel the elements, for fitness, for fun, for a break, to think, to
get away.
However,
that’s not the whole of it.
More than anything I run because at
the end of that race, that training run, that jog- with my pulse hammering,
knees aching, sweat impairing my vision, hamstring whining- I am in a state
that at times feels close to euphoria, and yet at others so close to exhaustion…
and it’s in this moment where that strange coupled feel of heaven and hell is
blurred together like red and white sand. It’s this instant of what some would joke
about as near death, that I truly feel alive.
