Just Run

7:00 Saturday morning. Still dark with just enough light at the horizon to hint at the sun beginning to rise. Gathering with the running group to prepare for our scheduled 10-mile run. I don’t really know anyone in the group yet but chat with others while waiting to begin the run. As we start off I have no idea of anyone’s pace, whether I will be running with or near anyone. But it doesn’t matter. The camaraderie in knowing we are all there for the same purpose holds me accountable. We are running in an area I have never run before. The sky is beginning to lighten and we are surrounded by trees. It’s cool and overcast, the perfect running weather.

Runners are running various distances on this out and back course. We start as a group heading down the steep hill and quickly settle into our personal paces. I found myself alone much of the time on this run but not really. Plenty of other runners and walkers and even a couple of dogs. There were runners ahead and behind and mostly I just focused on the beauty of the world around me. The course may have been out and back but there was nothing ordinary about it. As I was running along the curvy road up and down the gigantic hills I couldn’t help but notice the splendor of the trees, the peacefulness of the reservoir, and the stillness. Much needed respite from the chaos of the world. On this run I was listening to my Peloton playlist (when on the bike you can “like” songs and they will then be put in a playlist on Spotify). The music was quite random, ranging from pop to rock, to 90s hip hop, to punk, to new wave, to Broadway, to classical. I love running to classical music, especially on long, easy runs. The classical songs that played on my run served as the perfect soundtrack to running in my picturesque surroundings. The music allowed me to run without distraction and just enjoy being in the moment.

The course was challenging but flying down those steep hills brought some joy. Memories of being a child with no limitations and no fear. Doing everything at top speed with no fear of falling. Running fast downhill brought a sense of freedom and flight, like I was temporarily escaping the pain and pressures on Earth. The moments were brief but exhilarating. Of course after every downhill there was a steep uphill, but oh what a sense of accomplishment as I crested the top and got to soar once again.

It felt great to gather with the others after the run and just share some of the experience, knowing that while we all have the same goal (to run a marathon) ultimately we are there for different reasons. And for now this is the place where I am just “me”. Not the bereaved mother, not the person wearing a mask pretending all is fine, but someone just there to run. Maybe my story will come out later, maybe not. In the meantime, I am going to just run.