How To Run

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The soft vibrations of an alarm shake my bed to wake me from my sleep. There is no illumination from the cracks of my window; this time of day is dark and brisk. I risk the longevity of my rest only to participate in what is known as a universal punishment. Somehow, my mind is empty and I now wander to the room where I can rejuvenate. I know I cannot have this mindset for long. Running is not about the body, but about the mind. In time, I will learn that the mind is what pushes you across the finish line.

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A plethora of positive reminders fill my thoughts as my body remains a separate entity from my mind. The only choice I have this morning is to eat light, because the day demands long black tights and a bright shirt that will protect me from the wind. The day calls for me to run hills along Durand beach, which will be cold. I loath to run in the cold, but I have to remember to keep my mind strong. I recall a memory of  swift waves crashing on the rocky shore combined with the smell of pine. I no longer whine. I am ready to leave.

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At the peak of Durand, the reality of the beach is more serene than the memory I forced. Of course, it is still brisk but I have become numb and continue my mental preparation for my run. While I tie my laces, to prevent a rolled ankle, my mind slips back to the thought of the pain that running demands. I plan to tighten my hair to prevent its sail like nature in the wind. On the thought of my hair I forget the pain of long strides. My cheeks are blushed and the tip of my nose is scarlett.  I take in a deep breath of the lake air. I am ready to run.

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The resonance I create with the ground to my legs is melodic in nature. Focusing on this rhythm will ensue a pleasing pace. If I fall out of it then there is no point in training for my race. I can tell my mind is slipping and the discouragement begins. In order to win, in a race or for myself, there can be no doubts. The first mile is fresh like spring rain. I feel no pain. My breath and strides are long and deep rooted. My mind is focused; my thoughts are strong. I long to win this race where I stand alone. There is no mate to cheer my name except the voice in the back of my mind. I am my only fan, yet fickle and scared. In order to win, I must only express care.

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Mile two is no friend; my spirit it bends. A mile that is far easier to fear than to love. Above my head with the rain falls doubt. I start to think, “You cannot breathe,” “Your legs are giving,” “You can stop now no one is looking.” I am no hero, in those brief moments; in the past I have given up and the regret creates a void where it is impossible to reach the finish line. This time I tell myself how good I feel and remember the pride of accomplishment that radiates in any temperature.

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The third mile is wild, kind, and hard to give up on. Dawn is upon me and the light of day warms my face. I have come so far. My inner voice tells me I am anything but below the bar. Nothing shy of a strong-willed mind has aided my grind. All of a sudden I gain a second wind. A runner’s high is what begins. During this time all pain goes away and I feel reborn. The light in the sky is in tandem with that at the end of a tunnel. In the distance I hear faint chirping sounds. As my feet kiss the ground success is no longer out of reach. The last strides I take bring me to the edge of Durand beach. In this moment I am flushed with joy, my mind and body have not failed. I finally let out a grunting exhale.

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Nothing else can compete; this sensation is the catalyst that has pushed me up the hill. My will to continue had grown and overtime I finally crossed the finish line. However, running does not stop there. The air is thin and has been replaced with my own breath. I have merged with nature; this sensation is untouchable. However, a dark cloud is headed my way. I am aware this feeling cannot stay. The future is predictable and I fear what it brings. A silent storm of depression creeps towards me. I crash and burn, break down, and yearn for the time when I was lunging over the finish line. My own thoughts must climb out of the abyss that running has created. I must think to a time where I have previously stated, thoughts that are pure and lively. It helps to recall the soothing sounds of the waves or the feel of my sneakers along a road that was recently paved.

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My mind has worked the longest hours, not my legs nor my lungs. Among all preparations I make my mind must be the one most well-strung. It is the most difficult to train. It is combated by the hardest challenges and pain. My mind must be cradled and not taken for granted. It is delicate and vulnerable, yet there is nothing like it. I get its potential but it has a tendency to weep. There is a way I must keep my mind in line and not dull. I recall memories of nature and love, it is the fuel to my thoughts.

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It is the only source of my energy and pride. It is the key that relieves my grief after the crash of a runner’s high. It is my only fan when I am face to face with pain; without it I would have nothing to gain. From the temptations of failure, which will never let me be, my mind is my warrior, who serves to protect me. Running is more difficult than it already appears; however, it is possible when my mind deters my greatest fears.

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