Friday, August 8, 2008

Running On Empty

I went for a run this morning. I haven't been running in a while because I hate running. More specifically, I hate runners.
While out for my run at 7:30 this morning, I realized that there are a lot of frustrated and single people in Vancouver.

The kind of people that go running at 7:30am are different than those who go out later in the day. The later day runners are the breed that I hate, they're the ones running to better their health, to live longer, lower their cholesterol, strengthen their immune system. The earlier day or later night runners are the ones I like – mostly because I'm a part of that group – they're (we're) the ones out running because we've got something to run from. You see, no one gets up at 7:30 in the morning to go for a run because they WANT to, they go because something (or someone) has forced them into their shoes and out the door.

We don't give a shit about our overall health, chances are one in five of us smoke and one in three drinks above the moderation level. We run because we don't talk. We run because we're full of frustration and can't masturbate anymore without doing serious damage. We run because we can't stand up for ourselves and ask for what we want. We run because it's easier to run from our demons than to face them head on.

Don't get me wrong, we do all those things we mentioned above. Sometimes we meditate to get it all back into alignment, sometimes we fast away the emotional toxins. Sometimes we paint or write it all out. Sometimes we even fuck our frustrations away. But sometimes, we need to run – run until our heart feels like it's going to burst in our chest, that our lungs are going to collapse in on themselves, like our knees are going to shatter like icicles falling from the eaves on a frozen winter night. There are times that the only thing that will get the crap out from between our ears is to run and get angry and spit and get sweaty and snotty.

I know that I'm not a late morning or early afternoon runner because as I sit and write this I'm enjoying a cigarette.

Some people go to therapy, some people mediate or do yoga. Some people shop or drink or eat to get the crap out. Sometimes I do those things, but sometimes in the early light of a Sunday morning when the Saturday night has been uneventful and full of frustrations that no dream can take away, I get up and I put on my shoes and my toque and my sweats and I run. I throw Sugar Ray into my discman and enjoy some me time with Mark McGrath. Sometimes it's King Apparatus, sometimes it's the soundtrack to the Blues Brothers. Sometimes I'm not even running or walking, sometimes I'm the weirdo who's dancing down the seawall to a soundtrack that only I can hear.

3 comments:

Joan said...

I love this! and .. we're both running! okay, tomorrow 6am.. you start running east, i'll start running west. i'll meet you in winnipeg for christmas.

Jennie said...

it's a deal!
i haven't been running in a while and i think tomorrow morning is a good time to start again.
the weatherman is calling for rain...

Victoria said...

I only run if I'm being chased.... but I can shop the demons right the hell out of me.