just hang with me and my headlamp
wednesday, october 9, 2019.
i had just finished a run, chilling at a neighborhood cafe, and the sun had just risen above the pacific horizon not long ago, when the man asked me:
“aren’t you afraid to run in the dark?”
he looked genuinely confused.
unsure how to respond, i hesitated, and then, pointed to my headlamp:
“i got this. i’m good.”
and as i sat there, finishing my coffee, i dwelled on this seemingly simple question. it stirred up many, many emotions. it stirred up emotions because a few days ago, i made a mental commitment to moving out of san francisco by the end of this year. i knew this would happen, probably, eventually, at some unforeseeable future; but now there’s a deadline, it suddenly feels official, and insurmountably real.
this morning, long before sunrise, my feet hit the pavement, and then the trails, pitch-black. there’s something unspokenly magical about moving in the dark, alone with my thoughts and the headlamp. the world around me seems to shrink. the fifteen feet of beam of the light becomes the entire universe.
it forces me to be a hundred percent present. there are no external distractions and the act of putting one foot in front of the other becomes both cathartic and meditative. i am just here, flying through the darkness, away from the past, under the dimness and toward the unknown.
the unknown forces me to take a leap of faith. while it can be unnerving to not see what’s around the corner, it’s also liberating to just leap into darkness and let the trails take you. it sounds counterintuitive but running in the dark provides a sense of clarity that running during the day does not.
i think back on the last four years, on what i have ever really, really needed.
a sick playlist. a good book. half-decent peanut butter and jelly sandwich. running shoes. running up a mountain. running into the first rays of the day. being able to cover many miles on my feet, for that matter. friends who think i am crazy and are still willing to wake up at 3am for my idiotic pursuit; family who sees through my insecurities and catches me when i free fall. sweaty hugs. positive mental attitude. curiosity. being comfortably uncomfortable. oh, and a cold, fresh beer on a warm summer night.
i think back on the last four years living in this city, and i think of a time to hit the road and get moving again. and that time is now.
so, no. i am not afraid. i’m done with tiptoeing. i’m ready to dance around. let us. 💃🏻
and no, i’m not sure where i’m headed. hopefully, wherever i go, there will be new friends to make, new trails to explore, new languages to learn; some trembling, a bit of tears, and a whole lotta smiles.
who knows, maybe i’ll learn how to ride a wave, dunk a basketball or some other cool trick during the next spin around the sun.
ready?
know what i’m up to, see what i see, and just come hang by following me here.
