Diligence and consistency are not things that I naturally excel at. Sometimes I get into something, and it ends as abruptly as it started. Running however, is something that I've stuck with. As of now, I can not say that running in itself changed my life or that I would be nowhere without it. There wasn't some enormous turning point in my life that running provoked and I don't have any dramatic stories where I've ever had to use my running skills in a real-life applicable situation. If you think about it, running is not a very glamorous sport. Sometimes I even wonder why I do it, as it seems rather pointless and impractical. Looking back however, I see that I can not call my fixation with running just a hobby. I see that at certain times in my life, running was the only thing that was consistent.
Amid teenage angst, I ran. In foreign countries, I ran. On my 21st birthday, I ran. Through blistering heat and winter sunsets, I ran. I ran through summertime thunderstorms and I ran through broken hearts. Lots of broken hearts. There were some runs that alleviated whatever predicament I was going through, and some that exacerbated it. There was a time in my life where I even abused running. Other times, it acted as a healing agent - an opportunity to literally pound out my frustrations.
I think that my best runs have come when I don't plan them. Sometimes when I run, my mind is stimulated and my thoughts go crazy. Other times, my mind goes completely blank. That's what's funny about running, it's anything but predictable. I've learned that in order to fully enjoy this sport, I must stay away from a rigid schedule because if I do, it becomes a chore. Thankfully, even without a schedule I run often enough so that I can still reap the benefits. Today was a good running day. I didn't plan it, in fact I was exhausted after coming home from clinicals but the gorgeous cool autumn weather inticed me. So off I went. Pounding the pavement, ipod encouraging every step, I was alive and free...and happy.
Somewhere in there a passion was born. Whether I am flat out sprinting, feeling the wind rip through my hair, or barely trudging along, lungs screaming at mile 25, I realize something - that love is an overused, strong word. With this thought, I realize that I am in love with running. Though we've had our ups and downs, I have found middle ground and grown a healthy relationship with this beautiful, useless, impractical yet divine sport.
I started running my Sophomore year in high school, and I will never stop.
