Running

I am obsessed, obviously, with running. I am not really sure when this obsession started. It might have its origins with me attempting to find a sport in which I wouldn't get killed. Football didn't last long for me. I never made it to a game. I practiced for a week with the team until I had my left clavicle broke in practice. That ended the football playing for me. I still don't know what drew me to running. In high school and college I was a "sprinter." I ran the 110, 300, and subsequent 400 hurdles in high school/college. I think I decided to try it because my best friend was doing it and I was tall and gangly. I had a bit of speed in me, but nothing that got me recruited for Div I or II. Not that I was looking for that. For some reason I had an aversion to running long distances, which back then was anything over 2 miles continuously.

Finally in college I decided/realized that I would not have the opportunity to continue hurdling past college and wanted to continue running. So, I switched to longer distances and have since not turned back, although I occasionally hurdle something while just horsing around on a "short" run (3 miles).

It wasn't until I switched to longer running that I fully appreciated the beauty of running. The simplicity of it. The purity of basic running. It was a hard transition for me, since I like to run fast. I love the turnover of a 400 meter race. I had to learn to pace myself and slow down. Now, I'll go out and jog 3, 5, 10 miles without thinking about it. Odd how when you reflect on your life and even your lifelong interests, you realize how they have changed and evolved. You have changed; you have evolved. Is running a reflection of my maturity? (God I hope not, I run like an 80 year old man with osteoarthritis.) Rather I think it is simply a natural course and progress. Or maybe it was a simple shifting of an addiction.

For those of you that have read A Million Little Pieces, you will remember how the protagonist explains that an addict never ceases to be an addict, but merely shifts their addiction to something else. Runners are addicts. They can't get enough of running. They love the feeling of it. They will sacrifice their bodies for it, to it. They will (or at least I will) lie to be able to do it. Lie to your boss about a prior engagement; lie to your significant other; lie to a friend; lie to yourself. It is a drug. Plain and simple and those addicted to it are addicts. They will put themselves in harm's way to continue to use and abuse it.

Maybe I started and continued running because I knew that I could do it and others couldn't. In a Dean Kanarzes sense: I could run for long, and I was proving myself through it. It is an arrogant way of viewing your running motivation and talents, but for some people it is motivation. When I am running in the blistering cold, with the wind driving into my face, seeing no one else outside, wearing shorts, I smile. I love it. I love the feeling. I love knowing that I am a BA out there running in the extreme conditions (as extreme as IN can be, which isn't very extreme). In that respect I can identify with Kanarzes. His "I can do it and you can't" attitude is brazen, but resounds true sometimes.

Ultimately, you have to find your own reason(s) to continue running. Be it a race, to stay in shape, to lose weight, to have camaraderie, because you can't stop... just because... I will continue to run for a multitude of reasons, but mainly because I can't stop. I'm addicted, and I see no value in quitting.