Running.

I’m not much of a runner. But today, I ran. I ran fast. I ran far. I ran a bridge. I left all my thoughts on that bridge. It was exactly what I needed. My glasses were foggy. My mind, heavy. My heart, hurt. My shoulders, heavy. My clothes, sweaty.

My life, personal, and professional had been taking a toll lately. I decided I needed to do something. I woke up feeling brokenhearted, hopeless, and with so much nervous energy. Why?

I have no darn clue. But I figure I would put it to good use. I figure I would do something productive with my life, for once. I would run. Running seems good. Summer is coming up. Trying to get in shape, so running helps.

I ran as far as I could, away from Chinatown, from home, from work. I wanted to leave Manhattan. I wanted to force myself to get out of my comfort zone. I felt stuck, and like a fish, prying and breathing for his life, out of the water, I ran. I ran for the life of me. I ran like my life depended on it.

I wasn’t any good. I was heaving, and hoe-ing. I was panicking. I was crying. I felt every emotion possible. My body aching. My eyes, started to see color. I didn’t even have the proper attire to run. But I didn’t care. Nothing was going to stop me from running.

It felt good. It felt therapeutic. I don’t run often, but my muscles ached. My mind, only focused on the length of road ahead of me. Not other runners. But myself, my own journey. This is where the problem, I realized, lied.

The bridge was a great analogy for my life. No one is happy where they are in life. Everyone is always looking for the next thing. Everyone is at different crossroads in their life. I can’t compare myself to other people. I don’t know their story, I don’t know their life. They may have run the bridge before.

They may have trained for marathons before. They may be in a better shape then me. They may have more stamina then me. But, here’s the thing. I can’t be focused on other people. I can only worry about myself, my struggles, my pain, my breathing, my footwork. I can only worry about the path I take, the bridge I’m running. No one gets where they are in life, without working hard. Clearly, those ahead of me, started before me. They were well adapted to the terrain. Those behind me, we’re slower, but given enough practice, or time, might catch up to me.

I used to get sad, mad, depressed because I used to worry about other people. I would compare myself. But this is not good. This is not healthy. I can’t compare myself to to other runners.

Running is an individual sport. Run, run alone, run with no regrets. Run, be happy, and freely.

Run. Just run.