To you, I run

I run. I started doing it when I was a teenager. I remember that summer when I was 13 and I started running. It confused my mother so much as to why I, during my summer break from school, would get up early while the rest of the household slumbered to go running. I was supposed to be a kid who slept in late on those hot Central Valley days and only awake to play. Instead I had taken on this intense hobby that my mother didn't understand. Nevertheless, she let me and was always waiting with a bowl of steaming hot rice with a fried egg for when I got back.

After that summer, I came to realize that running made me feel good about myself, it taught me to see my body as a working machine instead of this developing alien form of lumps and bumps, and it made me feel powerful.

My dedication to running over the years has increased and decreased. Sometimes I'll go for months at a time with a strict schedule and regimen, and sometimes for months at a time, I'll almost forget that I've got a pair of running sneakers in the back of my closet that have been collecting dust. It was something I did sometimes and then stopped doing, but I didn't need to explain to anyone because I always did it by myself.

I realized a couple years ago that my willpower to lace up and pound pavement is usually coupled with coping with traumatic events in my life. (It certainly didn't start out that way nor was it ever meant to be that.) I noticed how I started to take back to running when I was going through particularly tough times in my life. This last year, I started running as a way to cope with the major changes in my life. In my head, I rationalized that if I was taking such large leaps of faith with so much, the least I could for myself was take control of my health and try to look good while leaping.

So I started running. And I ran while these changes were made. And I ran while these changes took root. And I ran while life became settled and these changes became the norm for me. Usually this is when I start to lose interest in running because I start to feel that control has returned to me so I start devoting the time which was reserved for running to my new interests.

But it didn't happen this time around. I didn't stop running. In fact, it started to feel like running had become one of these new changes that I had grappled with and had now settled into. It was starting to bring me satisfaction instead of being an outlet for my worries and stress. How did this happen without me recognizing?

I think it was because of you. Before you, no one had ever taken in interest in my "hobby". Sure, it didn't help that it was something I enjoyed doing solitarily, but the fact that you expressed interest and then started doing it yourself showed something to me. You forced me to admit to myself that I was indeed a runner and that was something you wanted to be yourself. It made me feel like something I did for me and myself for so long could be shared with someone. Your interest in running kept me interested.

So I went running today. By myself around the beautiful Lake Merritt. The music was old, my sneakers were old, but now, now I was running for new reasons.