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What Compels You

Published by
kels   Aug 13th 2008, 4:34am
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I was having lunch with my boss today and we were chatting about our lives and whatnot when she asked me what I did last night.
“Well,” I said, “blah blah... something about a 9 mile run, and more blah, blah, blah.”
My boss got a little uncomfortable looking and then finally asked me with a worried tone, “What compels you to run so far.”

I opened my mouth to respond but the only answer that came to my lips was.... “..der.....”

I ended up muttering some bullshit about being athletic and, by default I assume, liking the way it feels to be in general discomfort while I search for new and better streets to run past.

It’s complicated, is the real answer.

Sometimes I get depressed, like real depressed, where I can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t laugh, don’t want to do anything, don’t want to do nothing, and where sometimes I can’t even cry about it. Sometimes running as hard as I possibly can for no accurate time or meaningful distance can shock my body into enough pain that it reminds me that even if I can’t seem to function and even if I don’t feel very lively, I am still very much alive. Running makes me feel.

Sometimes I run when I get bored, which is a lot lately. I hate commercials, so I can hardly stand to watch TV. And while the average american household has a TV on for at least 6 hours per day, I hafta find something to do with my free time.

Sometimes I run just to be outside. Sunny runs are lovely, night runs are wonderful, puddle runs are great.

I definitely run because I am obsessive and its what I think about every day- what’s my run gonna be? Where should I go? I think and talk about running all day and to anyone who will listen.

I sorta run because I am impulsive (yup- I am obsessive/impulsive, but I don’t know if that’s a real thing yet). I decided just last month that I am going to train for the Canadian Olympic Trials for 2012 in the 1500. I gotta loose about 30seconds a year to get there.

I sorta run because sometimes you’ve gotta have a lofty goal worth chasing for no real reason other than you think you should.

I used to run in high school as a way to punish my self. I would couple running lots with eating little to really punish myself, but that was when I addled with some form of teenage angst where perfection meant starvation. I occasionally see glimpses of that version of myself returning, but then again we all carry the many versions of ourselves where ever we run.

Last week I ran the last AllComers meet in the 1500. I previously threatened to choke a bitch if I didn’t improve by at least 9 seconds, instead I ran slower than my best by 4. However I ran a good race that I was happy with, and no bitches needed choking. I also got my first blue ribbon. I won my age group and it felt good. Sometimes just running to win is good enough.

Anyways, I didn’t bother telling my boss all this over lunch. It felt too complicated, because the truth about running is that in the end it’s just so simple.

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