Why do I Run?

When thinking about the answer to my question- why do I run?- I'm not sure if I am referring to the physical act of running, which is something that I have recently been torturing my body with, or if it refers to the mental running that my mind and my heart has also been tortured with over the past four years. Both forms of running began with the same purpose in mind- to provide an escape from the current stress of my life, an outlet for my over-active thinking. The end result has been the same as well- the renewed sense of calm, the return of an inner motivation to move forward in my life. It's everything that happens between the beginning and the end that shows the true difference between the physical and the mental.

Two months ago, I would have laughed at the person who told me that I was going to add running to my repertoire of extra curricular activities. It had never appealed to me, and seemed to lack a purpose. Was I running to get somewhere? No. Was I running away from someone or some dangerous animal? No. Was I running to catch someone? No. Like I said, no purpose. And then, just as dramatically as I emphasized that I didn't like to run, my mind completely reversed and suddenly, wanted to run. It literally happened over night. It reminded me of how unexpectedly inspirational the idea for my blog started. I tend to be a very reactive person. When I am passionate about an idea, an activity, or a person, I consume myself with wanting to learn and do all I can, trying to soak up all the energy and use it to create something wonderfully positive in my life. And that is how I felt the day I started to run.

If I think more deeply about my desire to run, there were signs that were trying to force their way into my awareness. My son loves to run. He competes in Cross Country every year with his school team, and qualified to run at the provincial level last year for his age category. Part of me realized that this could be one more way of connecting with him. It would give us something to talk about, and eventually he might even like to join me on a run- ok, let's be honest, I would be desperately attempting to keep up to his slow jog. There were other signs too- the lack of cardio during the summer months of dancing hiatus; the sluggish, heavy feeling of inactivity; the sudden appearance of people in my life whose exhilaration for physical activity was contagious; the desire to move, to feel that heart pounding, lung gasping, face burning sensation of being healthy and alive. It all sounds very inspirational. It seemed easy enough to lace up my running shoes, hook up my iPod, and take off running down the nature trail. From the door of my house, to the start of the trail, and then looped back again is approximately 5km. That first night, the running gradually turned to a jog, and then to a walk, back to a jog, walk, can't run anymore, walk, jog...I guess I was going to require some more training. When I arrived back at the front steps leading into my house, every muscle in my legs loudly protested the climbing of those steps. If there had been a soft pillow and a warm blanket on my front lawn, I would have gladly laid my weary body down upon it for the night.

Six weeks into the running, and I am hooked. I have built my endurance up to a steady jog of 6 km each time I run, which is usually 4 to 5 times each week. My son has joined me, and has intensified the workout with some sprint drills. I think he must forget that he is actually running with his mother. I remind myself though that each desperate gasp of air, and each burn of muscle in my legs, is worth the time I am sharing with my son. It's worth the decluttered feeling in my brain at the end of the run. It's worth the addition of one more piece of my life that is just for me.

The running of my mind and my heart is a journey that I will have to share in another post. It has required much more training, and I'm not sure that I will ever arrive at the doorstep at the end of that run. Maybe a part of me doesn't want to arrive either, maybe the run is what keeps me invigoratingly alive.