Ignore the stubble, it’s nothing more than a byproduct of summer laziness and will come off tomorrow morning around 6:05 a.m. Forget the fact that the picture is a selfie, as obnoxious as the trend may be, there was nobody around to take the picture for me. Don’t get hung up on anything about the picture, just know that i’m happy, and let me explain why:
Some runs are short. Because of time constraints, they’re a quick two miles down a trail, only to turn around and head back to the start. They might even be shorter than that. Some runs are long, with spurs off one trail that serves as a major corridor, ending hours later with mileage that’s measured with two numbers instead of one.
Some runs are difficult. They turn into slogs of pain and irritation from hot weather, lack of sleep, no lack of embibing the night before, pouring rain, biting cold, or headwinds that refuse to let up. Sometimes they’re really difficult because of poor hydration, particularly when it gets hot. Gatorade is my friend and water is in my hand at all times. Like really.
Some runs are for the hardware. Medals make me happy. If that’s your thing, might I suggest the Little Rock Marathon. The 2013 medal was so dang big that we ate slices of pepperoni pizza off them on the way home. Not kidding.
Some runs are for road trips with the best road tripper off all time, my good friend Jamie Huneycutt.
Some runs are for seeing new things. Nothing excites me more than a new trail or running in a new city. Just this afternoon I ran a new portion of trail around Lake Fayetteville that couldn’t have been more than a few tenths of a mile, but it made me happy nonetheless to test it out and pound the pavement. And running on vacation in other cities? It’s the best way to get off the beaten path. Sign me up every single time.
Some runs are for seeing old things in new ways. I can’t count the miles i’ve logged on the Skull Creek Trail right here in Fayetteville, but the terrain, the trees, the skies, the other runners, the experience, is constantly changing. Look closely, be present, be amazed.
Some runs are for drinking beer and eating really good food. Like french fries.
Some runs are thoughtful. Frequently, my thoughts are on the people I love. My sister, my parents, my students, my teaching colleagues, old friends, Mrs. Pugh, Mrs. Murie, Todd, Big Gabe and Little Zach, Avery and Charles, the Episcopal Church. On any given run they may be along with me in spirit, having no idea that I feel their presence with every footfall. I do.
Some runs are a chance to remember those that have gone before me. Often I think of each of my grandparents: GeGe and her loving embrace and sweet potatoes; Big Mama and her tiny body and ever-present can of Budweiser with salt on the rim; Dali and his homemade rolls; and my grandfather Sam, whom I never met, wishing I knew more about his tragic journey. I think of an old high school friend, Bart, who left way too early. I think of Sarah Lee and her tie-dyed tee shirts. I think of a great educator, Kathy. I think of Abe Lincoln, the best dog I could have ever asked for. I suspect this is true for many runners out there, that we all think of the people who have gone before us. It’s a beautiful way to remember.
Some runs are for going really, really fast. As fast as possible. So fast that it hurts.
Some runs are fun, particularly races. Being surrounded by hundreds, or thousands, of friends that i’ve never met but are friends nonetheless is my understanding of a party. There are smiles, cheers, music, costumes, laughs, and even a little debauchery every now and then. And runs are even more fun when Deanna Duplanti is in the mix. We’re both usually bringing up the rear, without a care in the world. She’s one of the happiest people I know and one of my longest running friends. I love her energy. Katie Helms comes to mind, too, when runs are fun.
Some runs aren’t even runs at all. Sometimes a planned run is sidelined to spend time with somebody who needs to talk, or to help out a friend, or to get some last minute work done, or to simply be lazy and watch a movie. The running shoes sit quietly, knowing there’ll be another time, another trail, another race, because there always is.
Some runs are a random mix of all the other runs. Those are the best.
Regardless of the type of run, and please know that i’ve experienced them all in spades, they share a common bond: the other side. There’s never been a run where I didn’t feel better than when I started. On the other side of the run, my legs are strong, my mind is clear, my focus is sharp, my head is held high, and I’m a better man. Perhaps those are the reasons that i’ve fallen in love with running, perhaps that’s why I know that it’s changed my life for the better. Maybe that’s why the guy above is happy, content, appreciative, and proud.
Run.
Beautiful thoughts, and AMEN to the other side. It truly is always better there. :)
ReplyDelete