The Run: Absence Makes The Heart Grow Fonder

I've come to the conclusion that I need to run. I'm not saying I want to run and it's an occasional thing I enjoy doing, like a hobby or an I'm-so-bored-I-think-I'll-run kind of thing. No: I need to run. For sanity. For relaxation. For joy and freedom and... all that jazz.

Last fall, I had to put running on hold. For two months, I twiddled my thumbs as I waited to recover from my UC flare. It was brutal and annoying and grueling. I felt defeated. All of that progress, all of that work: it seemed it was for nothing.

When I returned to the pavement, I'd never felt so good. It hit me that running wasn't about progress, but about the experience. For me, it takes stress away, like stepping into the sunshine after being stuck in the dark. It revives me. Even when it's tough (because every run is different, and occasionally, it just doesn't go well), I love it, because it makes me feel alive. More than anything, I feel free when I run. 

For the past two weeks, I was forced to put running on hold again. And again, it was for medical reasons, but not quite so serious. I had sinus surgery, and despite how okay you might feel even a week after surgery, you're not supposed to exert yourself. So I sat, and waited. I walked, sure. But walking is nothing like running! Honestly, I might as well have been sitting.

My favorite running shirt.
AKA my Radiohead inspiration (Fitter, Happier)

Today, I visited my ENT doc, hoping for a good checkup. He'd done a fabulous job on my surgery. My recovery had been fantastic, and I crossed my fingers that he'd give me the green light. The very last thing I asked him before I left the room was, "I've been dying to run, please tell me I can go?" "Yes." Ahh, that one little word was music to my ears.

These last two weeks, I've had a lot of time to think about what drives me to run. What is it that really motivates me? And there are many reasons. I'm amazed and astounded by Ultrarunners; people who can run for dozens of miles without stopping. It makes me want to run across the country. I have friends who've ran marathons, triathlons... you name it. The body's ability to push through that kind of physical stress floors me. So I push, with no goal other than to beat myself. Take it to the limit. Dig deep. Push, push, push. Prove. Yes, that's it: prove.

But I don't know what I'm really trying to prove. I've often wondered if, subconsciously, I'm running from something, or perhaps I'm running to something. I like to think it's the latter. But the inner workings of the mind are difficult to decipher, even for ourselves. It makes me wonder why other people run. What motivates them? What are they thinking? What do they love about it? Is it strictly for exercise? Or is there something more meaningful behind it?

What is obvious to me is how fidgety, down and sluggish and grim I felt these last couple of weeks. I hated not running. I felt repressed. 

Freedom! I got my freedom back. That might sound strange, and I know I've written almost this exact same blog before. But the importance of this cannot be overstated. Running is my solace, my happiness, my reset button. It's certainly not more important to me than God, or music, for that matter. Okay, maybe it's tied with music. I can live with that.