LJ IDOL - "RUN, DON'T WALK"
Constant thought rarely allows a man to resolve his concerns. For without rest, without a chance to step back, that moment of clarity remains tangled in the edges of his brain. As it weaves its way through the left hemisphere, into the cerebellum, and down the spinal cord, it gets lost in the undulations and curves of the miles of brain tissue condensed inside our heads. The harder he thinks, the tighter the knots of his brain become. And each answer to our troubles becomes more and more difficult to release.
I've never been good at letting my mind rest. The harder I try, the more my mind seems to get caught up in one worry or another. Ten deep breathes? Yeah right, that only makes it worse. Painting. Watching TV. Cooking. I've tried them all. Only one thing, one action, seems to alleviate my distress. For when my body is in motion, my mind finally gets a moment to be calm. When I lace up my shoes and open the door to the outside, I immediately know I'm where I should be.
A small skip starts me off each time. And then it's simply putting one foot in front of the other. As my eyes remain fixed five feet in front of me, creating a backlog of the rocks, bumps, and roots in my path, the inner workings of my brain seem to loosen. The light pounding of each step jostles another worry away. The energy inside my body pulses up my legs, into my torso, through my neck, and rams full force into the clutter within my head. As the sweat drips down my forehead, a slight smile forms on my face.
I can do this for hours. And I do. Twelve miles, eighteen miles, twenty six miles. Two hours, four hours, five and a half hours. I meander through trails, weave between trees, leap over streams. Questions of my career, my family, my friends slip out with the sweat and fall to the earth. Soaking up into the soil, the questions are gone and only answers remain.
A large hill comes up in front of me, and I grit my teeth as I hunker down for the climb. My thighs burn, my hamstrings scream, my heart beats a mile a minute. But between my temples and behind my eyes there is a void, an open space, a bright light that glimmers out through my pupils. For the darkness of worry that so often presses against my forehead disappears. I jump over logs and sneak around bushes with ease, no longer feeling the weight of a million concerns.
Don't you get bored? What do you think about? Why don't you bring music along? Don't you get tired?
While I get these questions all the time, I still struggle to find a good way to answer them. Perhaps it's largely because I simply don't understand them. Those hours of the day I am outside and moving, I feel the most relaxed. I am happy to be away from technology, obligations, and the rules that keep us in line during the day. It's the one part of my life where my thoughts slip away.
When I reach the top of that hill and stare out at what is around me, I look back and see just how many miles I've traversed through these woods. I take in the beauty of the lakes around me, the wildlife flying above me, and the neighboring hills I will soon approach on my path. I let the warm summer air seep into my lungs, adding fuel to the energy within my body. As I return my gaze to the ground in front of me, I stretch out my legs and bounce my way down the other side of the hill.
No matter where I go or what trails I traverse, I am not running away from my problems nor towards a resolution. For each time I run, I return to where I started. And as I reach down to slip off my running shoes in the same spot I put them on, I know I can tackle the day with a greater sense of clarity. I know I will have a stretch of time before the worries of the world begin to seep back into my mind. For a moment of my day, I am free.
I've never been good at letting my mind rest. The harder I try, the more my mind seems to get caught up in one worry or another. Ten deep breathes? Yeah right, that only makes it worse. Painting. Watching TV. Cooking. I've tried them all. Only one thing, one action, seems to alleviate my distress. For when my body is in motion, my mind finally gets a moment to be calm. When I lace up my shoes and open the door to the outside, I immediately know I'm where I should be.
A small skip starts me off each time. And then it's simply putting one foot in front of the other. As my eyes remain fixed five feet in front of me, creating a backlog of the rocks, bumps, and roots in my path, the inner workings of my brain seem to loosen. The light pounding of each step jostles another worry away. The energy inside my body pulses up my legs, into my torso, through my neck, and rams full force into the clutter within my head. As the sweat drips down my forehead, a slight smile forms on my face.
I can do this for hours. And I do. Twelve miles, eighteen miles, twenty six miles. Two hours, four hours, five and a half hours. I meander through trails, weave between trees, leap over streams. Questions of my career, my family, my friends slip out with the sweat and fall to the earth. Soaking up into the soil, the questions are gone and only answers remain.
A large hill comes up in front of me, and I grit my teeth as I hunker down for the climb. My thighs burn, my hamstrings scream, my heart beats a mile a minute. But between my temples and behind my eyes there is a void, an open space, a bright light that glimmers out through my pupils. For the darkness of worry that so often presses against my forehead disappears. I jump over logs and sneak around bushes with ease, no longer feeling the weight of a million concerns.
Don't you get bored? What do you think about? Why don't you bring music along? Don't you get tired?
While I get these questions all the time, I still struggle to find a good way to answer them. Perhaps it's largely because I simply don't understand them. Those hours of the day I am outside and moving, I feel the most relaxed. I am happy to be away from technology, obligations, and the rules that keep us in line during the day. It's the one part of my life where my thoughts slip away.
When I reach the top of that hill and stare out at what is around me, I look back and see just how many miles I've traversed through these woods. I take in the beauty of the lakes around me, the wildlife flying above me, and the neighboring hills I will soon approach on my path. I let the warm summer air seep into my lungs, adding fuel to the energy within my body. As I return my gaze to the ground in front of me, I stretch out my legs and bounce my way down the other side of the hill.
No matter where I go or what trails I traverse, I am not running away from my problems nor towards a resolution. For each time I run, I return to where I started. And as I reach down to slip off my running shoes in the same spot I put them on, I know I can tackle the day with a greater sense of clarity. I know I will have a stretch of time before the worries of the world begin to seep back into my mind. For a moment of my day, I am free.