Stripped Bare

Crazy.  Obsessive.  Insane.  Addicted.  

These are just some of the words people have used to describe me when they hear about my running.  I get that it is difficult to understand.  Why would anyone want wake up in the wee hours of the morning day after day, add stress to the body and fight through injuries just to get hot and sweaty?  Usually when someone asks about my running I give a flippant answer like, “running is cheaper than therapy” just to avoid getting into the topic.  What they don’t know is that to talk about my running would be allowing them to peer deeply into the inner parts of who I am.  In reality, I can no more easily separate myself from my running as from my green eyes or my introverted personality. 

I can still remember running my first two miles.  I must have been about 11 years old.  There I was with my older brother, who was usually way too cool for me, cheering me on every step of the way.  As we were coming up the hill toward our house I was hot, tired, and ready to stop.  I can still hear him saying, “Come on!  You can do it.  We’re almost home!”  I felt so cool running next to him.  For those moments our usual conflictual relationship disappeared.  Through running, we connected.  I still remember running miles and miles with my Dad.  I can recall the many times when he told  me to tuck in behind him so he could block the wind for me.  In the beginning, he slowed down for me and as the years went by I slowed down for him. I can still feel the thrill of running my first marathon flanked by my dad and two uncles who shared that race with me.  The day is forever etched in my memory.  I remember the deep friendships formed during years of cross country and track.  Friendships that remain today. 

That was the beginning. 

Here I am 20 years later.  The teammates have gone as have many of the running partners.  No more coaches to guide me or applause spurring me on.  So why continue?  Why keep at it?

Many probably assume that people run to stay healthy, to stay in shape, to stay slim, to relieve stress.  And while those are all benefits and great reasons to run, for me it’s so much more.

Running is where I think.  It is in those hours that the clutter disappears and I can distinguish between that which is important and that which isn’t.  I feel the breeze on my face.  I see deer grazing in a field.  I hear the leaves dance with the wind.  As I look up and see the sky painted a brilliant array of colors I realize just how small I am.  Just how small my problems are.  It is in pounding the pavement that I am over-whelmed with thankfulness for this day, for this body, for this journey called life.  All pretense disappears, my usual anxieties are replaced with hope, my insecurities are gone and I am okay being exactly who I am.  

There are no masks.  There is no make-up.  There are no trendy hairstyles or pulled together outfits.  It is just me stripped bare.  There are no social graces.  Sometimes  I spit when I run.  I am sweaty. My clothes are far from stylish.  Mud often covers my legs.  My feet are calloused. Sometimes my toenails turn interesting colors.  

But you want to hear something funny?  It is in these moments that I feel fully alive.  I feel completely free.  I know that I am strong.  I am confident.  It is in these moments that.  . . . 

I feel beautiful.

And that, my Friends, is why I run.