young and full of running

running rooted from an image problem i had sophomore year, and it stemmed from a sanity issue I got soon after. people who know me know i run around six miles each day. people who don’t know me normally think I’m insane. people who do know me know that I am.

each time I put on my tattered running shoes I’m taking a dose of medication, in the form of fresh air, alone time, and movement. the most essential thing about running, for me at least, is having an hour dedicated to thinking freely. without that hour I would have driven myself nuts. it’s an hour to meditate and ease my mind, to forgive myself and to think ahead. i don’t listen to music for the first couple miles. as much as I adore music, sometimes having other people’s thoughts pounding at my ear drums ruins the pureness and the trueness of my own thoughts. i would like to hear my thoughts as well.

but music eventually does play its role in my run. normally nothing fast pace. fast pace songs make me run a lot faster, and as much as i don’t like admitting this, i don’t run to go fast, i run to stay sound. i run to see the changes in the sky, feel the air in the seasons alter, and to hear the leaves crinkle in the fall and the birds sing in the spring.

however I do wonder sometimes, what the fuck am i running from? or running to? or since i’m eventually running back home, did I really go anywhere? i know for a fact I’m not running to a place on a map. so what in my mind am I running from? am I running six miles away from insanity, or running six miles towards sanity? running to euphoria, or away from depression? or since i’m really going no where, am i just working to maintain my level of life, not really doing anything, just remaining. am I six miles away from the things I don’t want in my life, or six miles closer to discovering what that is?

throughout my runs, i’ve been down paths and roads I never knew of. i’ve ran into friends I haven’t seen in ages, and noticed the earth in ways i’ve never dreamed of. i’ve discovered people can’t see you dancing if you run at night, and that tripping is really embarrassing on claiborne. I’ve noticed the things you can’t see in a car, and I’ve stopped in a field and screamed to the sky when I discovered that my life was a enchanted, magical, beautiful creation from a complex web of coincidences and happenings and if one of those had been different, I wouldn’t be here or I wouldn’t be now. i ran at top speed when I declared myself separated from you and mended myself, for the millionth time. I ran in the narrow streets in Italy, with the infamously flirtatious men egging me along. I ran in the refugee camps in gulu, uganda, in the heart of africa. and through the eiffel tower while the vendors handed me a slice of bread to sample jokingly each time I ran past.

(yes that's me)

i’ve run because I can and I’ve run because I felt like I had to.

but in the end I run because it’s my treatment.

dosage, the amount of miles, is determined by the emotions of the day.

the other day, kevin and i were talking about how what kind remedies of some people have. john mayer; weed, conor oberst; alcohol.

well, me; running.