Damage Report
There is something about running--the freedom, the meditation, the closeness to nature. Running has been a huge factor in my life for the past three years. Functioning as a way to cleanse my soul and regain focus. My therapy session at the beginning or the end of the day. It's guided me to make amends, follow dreams, and listen. Probably been my truest companion during all of these hours, difficult or not.
I have ran something like 900 miles since 2008. Of course, this is little compared to what elite runners run, running half of this mileage in a mere month. My accomplishments suit me just fine, though. Attaining a perfectly harmonious running trifecta over mountains, along rivers, and by the sea. It's been my sorrows, my merriment, and my courage that has pushed me beyond any and all unrealistic ambitions of running endlessly day upon day for some cause that has ceased to stay with me.
But over a month ago I procured an injury. An injury, worse than any before, that has left me debilitated from the one thing I love for all of the above reasons. My absence has taught me to become more flexible, spontaneous, and willful of others around me. I'm not out there always running, focusing on me and my inner qualms. So maybe it has been some great blessing in disguise. Maybe... but it has yet to bring me the kind of honesty that a little sole on pavement brings forth.
Nevertheless, my greatest hope is to recover soon and return back to my favorite companion. Back to my part time job of keeping my body and mind disciplined--twenty miles a week, thirty miles. I need it, in this strange kind of way. To reaffirm, or to challenge the things I do not know or feel whilst staring at a mute television screen at the gym. Is it too soon for the truth? I suppose I'll have to wait for my injury to tell me when. But for now...
... it just f'ing hurts.
I have ran something like 900 miles since 2008. Of course, this is little compared to what elite runners run, running half of this mileage in a mere month. My accomplishments suit me just fine, though. Attaining a perfectly harmonious running trifecta over mountains, along rivers, and by the sea. It's been my sorrows, my merriment, and my courage that has pushed me beyond any and all unrealistic ambitions of running endlessly day upon day for some cause that has ceased to stay with me.
But over a month ago I procured an injury. An injury, worse than any before, that has left me debilitated from the one thing I love for all of the above reasons. My absence has taught me to become more flexible, spontaneous, and willful of others around me. I'm not out there always running, focusing on me and my inner qualms. So maybe it has been some great blessing in disguise. Maybe... but it has yet to bring me the kind of honesty that a little sole on pavement brings forth.
Nevertheless, my greatest hope is to recover soon and return back to my favorite companion. Back to my part time job of keeping my body and mind disciplined--twenty miles a week, thirty miles. I need it, in this strange kind of way. To reaffirm, or to challenge the things I do not know or feel whilst staring at a mute television screen at the gym. Is it too soon for the truth? I suppose I'll have to wait for my injury to tell me when. But for now...
Comments