I know, I know, there are physical places to run. There are boundless cement sidewalks that lounge in the sun reminding you that you are, indeed, just a 60% water human-being, and you fucking need each percentage. There are parks that allow others to intermix cement, gravel, and dirt into their running terrain. There are absolutely places to run, but what happens when your runs become everything you’ve been running from?
I’ve been running since I was a young girl. I used to simply join my mom on walks in our neighborhood and be amazed at her speedwalking pace. Somewhere in between hips swaying around the cul-de-sac and junior high, I joined the track team. I busted out sprints in my perfectionistic runner’s form that led my teammates to playfully imitate my robot arm’s. Unfortunately, this robot had a human error and never was the fastest runner on our team. My nerves would get the best of me so sixth place is the best I’d receive during my tenure on the track team. Perhaps after my third sixth ribbon, I felt the 666 was a sign that track wasn’t aligned with the heavens. Or maybe it was just easier to give up than compare myself to my peers who were winning.
I didn’t really enjoy running until almost a decade later. It was my twenty-first birthday and I’d already had my raging hangover bash at twenty, so I was compelled to try something different. I decided to run 21 kilometers on my 21st birthday with my girlfriend at the time. It was the first time I’d begun to truly train for running since my junior high days and thankfully I’ve been hooked ever since.
Running has been there for me through breakups, unemployment, travels, culture shock, global moves, and countless highs and lows. Running has been my salvation, therapy, and the calming agent when the temperant waters of my mind overtook me. Now, my favorite exercise is facing a new barrier in the form of a global pandemic and I’m struggling to find the sweaty bliss I once did with each step.
When I faced a lull before, I’d find a race that challenged me in an entirely new way.
- Half-marathon in a new city? Check, Check, Check
- Great Wall Half-marathon? Check
- Advanced trail run in Taiwan? Check
- 47km skydive ultra? Check
But what happens when there no new races, cities, or terrains that you can explore? What happens when your running route becomes a reminder that you’re seemingly stuck?
I’ll do what I’ve done before to help in my lows. I’ll go for that run even if I’d rather just sit in bed and muse about faraway lands. I’ll go for that run even if I have to take too many walking breaks because the heat during Texas summer is a formidable opponent. I’ll simply run because staying won’t solve the nowhere in my mind. So … who wants to run tomorrow morning?