When I started running I expected the time on the road to be spent mulling over the details of my little life that I would prefer to have figured out already. Why are all the guys I’m attracted to unavailable in one way or another? Do I really have to suffer through OK Cupid again in order to meet people? How am I going to afford moving next month?
But instead it’s proved to be a meditative blip of peace and blissful quiet. I don’t listen to music. I don’t get frustrated by the unanswered questions. I just breathe and run with an impossibly adorable pup trotting at my heels.
Thoughts creep in and out of my head, mostly in the form of running related dilemmas I need to learn about. How does one properly hydrate without having to urinate halfway through a jog? If my shins already feel sore will I soon be suffering from shin splints? And if so, how do I avoid said suffering? How is it possible that my dog is pooping again? There’s no trashcan in sight. I may have to strangle him…
In they come and out they go. None of them pressing, none of them lingering for very long.
Yesterday I covered 3 miles in 35 minutes and as you can tell from this writing, I have yet to fall over and die. I feel better than ever and each time I finish with a good stretch, it brings even more delight.
This I can say with absolute certainty: I’m thankful the critical question of my life has transferred from How long can I stay ahead of the loneliness? to How do I jog a fair distance without cramping up or having to pee?