I love running. Hitting the pavement frees me from all other thoughts and allows me to feel entirely united as a being. I start out fully aware of the way I breathe, how my foot falls, how my arms drop and grip. Five minutes later, I am flowing.
Running is probably one of the most basic things that people know how to do...or at least so I thought. I always assumed that running was primal—extremely basic, such that we’ve heard of learning to walk before running. As a primal activity, it seemed highly functional. But in the environment of cars and transportation systems, running has become increasingly unnecessary. And truly, with today’s emphasis on speed and efficiency, running always seemed like an issue of who finishes first. The general effect is a perspective of running which focuses on speed, rather than endurance, sprints, rather than marathons.
But training for sprints and training for marathons require different things. And if life is a marathon, it is inevitable for one to reflect on one’s life as one trains for a marathon.
Learning to run for a full half hour (although this length of time is far, far, far from completing a marathon) required so much from me. While a lot of the requirements were completely physical, I had to reframe my mind tremendously. I can drive myself really hard and forceful in trying to achieve my goals. But running is an activity where driving yourself really hard and forcefully will lead to complete failure: either an injury or not finishing your race. I have learned to pace myself and go at a very steady pace, focusing on just one step at a time. The only way to endure through the time and distance was to go at a steady and relaxed pace.
I would not say that I am a genius, but intellectually, my capacity to comprehend is quick. In that sense, in matters of intellect, it is quite easy for me to get it, without really having to push too much or to try too hard. In the small world of my mind, pushing was never necessary—because I was always full speed ahead. Physically though, this formula doesn’t work. I have too much fat and mass to go full speed ahead. But because I am accustomed to figuring it out quickly, the physical discipline of running can be frustrating.
And that’s another thing I learned in my efforts to run: patience. Because I cannot drive my lung capacity, my legs, my heart rate, or my knees by sheer will. With consistency in practice, my body will adapt. But sheer mental power cannot miraculously increase knee strength or lung capacity. As in all things in life, you, and in this case your body, will adjust and adapt. But to do so takes time. And to persist and endure despite frustration, requires patience—an acceptance of oneself as evolving through both time and space.
I was never an athlete, but I am quite sure that most sports require some form of discipline. But running, unlike all other sport or exercise I have tried, has pushed my limits to the point of questioning my fundamental belief systems.
And maybe it is primal. I may have just truly veered away from who and what I truly am. I may have been living in my head for way too long. And the experience of a union in being for half an hour can be overwhelming, and refreshing—despite all the buckets of sweat.
20 More Things Blog.
Feel free to visit the making of tambi run here.
Please, do not leave award or faving without a comment, a small comment will make my day. Thank you!!!