3 years ago, one late evening on a lonely road winding down to the Fenway Park, I stood, breathing heavily. Surrounded by thick greenery, historic Museum of Fine Arts, a group of teenagers playing ball in a distant field and the crisp cool air of a typical August day that was turning cloudy.
"This is shit", I thought to myself.
2009 was my first foray into anything that could be remotely associated to running. I was definitely tending towards becoming overweight. I was beyond myself. I wanted to gym like everyone else. I wanted to cut down on food like everyone else. I ached to become active.
And I chose running.
Few jogs down the beaten path and it left me gasping for breath. It was more like grunting.
I put my hands on my knees and bent down, breathing as if my life depended on it.
I looked around and there was no one. And the dark clouds looked ominous. I was living in a dingy apartment in Boston, with 4 other girls and their own set of problems they came with. I hated my life. What was I doing here?
I continued to jog again. And stopped right after 30 seconds.
"This is shit", I thought to myself again.
2009 and nobody wants to even give me a job offer. Even at those rockstar internships I had. They all liked my work but it was the year of recession. Recruitments froze everywhere. And yet here I was thinking about running, as if that's going to change my life.
I suddenly ground to a halt when a bunch of geese(?) cut into my path.
"Stupid birds", I thought to myself.
As they took their own time, I took my temporary break, hands on my hips and beads of sweat forming on my forehead.
"This can't be right, I should be focussing on job interviews", I thought to myself. "What am I doing here, trying to run like this, as if this is going to change my life"
"Please don't rain, please don't rain", I let out silent prayers.
After a good 10 minutes, I tried to run again. This time out of necessity to avoid the rain. And I ran till my apartment. By then I had gotten wet.
The rains didn't stop for me. And neither will your life.
Today I can run a 5K like a breeze. 10K no problem. 20K, I wouldn't exactly die either.
I think running taught me an important lesson. Sometimes in life, you have to do things without purpose. There is always pressure on you to do well at work, relationships, business, career. A hundred reasons crop up in your puny brain, resisting change. Excuses that you will make for not going at "outside routine". That little voice in your head is angry and confused and afraid. But keep at it. Keep cheating your brain to believe that this is not a drain on your time. That this is not going to affect anything else in your life. That this is just for fun.
This is something that you want to do, carelessly. No pressures. No expectations. No nothing.
I now know what runners mean when they say "runners high" or "feeling the wind in your face".
To this date, I don't have a race target or goal time. I always always run for fun. I run because I love how the endorphins break down my worries or stress from trivial things in my life. I love to listen to my own breathing sometime - in out, in out, in out - and with the sweat dripping on the back of my neck, when I tie my long hair into a bun, the cool air that feels like I am on top of a snow capped mountain. I love how it throws hiccups at me - toenail injuries, side stitches, tired legs - and they feel like small victories instead of problems.
These are not imaginary feelings. This is the real deal, in flesh and blood. When you slowly realize that dormant strength in you - as you morph from someone who moves at a glacial pace to someone who runs like the gazelle, carefree and happy - with the spring of your feet and the belief in your head.
And that, my friends, that feeling right there is what I mean when I say I love running.
Dedicated to all of those who told me and still tell me that running is boring
