The FunnyRunner (01.10.08)

As I drive off to work in the early morning light I often see a runner who has a very distinctive running style. He has the skinny frame and quick pace of a chronic runner, but what makes him stand out is that he holds his arms lower then most people do. His arms have almost no bend in them at all. They move stiffley at his sides as he makes his way down the street. The first time I saw him I dubbed him the FunnyRunner. Over the years of living in this same neighborhood and driving into the hospital on early mornings I see him moving briskly down the street. For some reason he connects me to a part of myself that hasn’t been around for a while, a part of myself that I miss. Before I was married I used to run all the time. That was what I did for fun. I ran daily, and organized my weekends around which trail I wanted to run and how long I was going to be out for. My best friend at the time, Tracy, and her little brown dog, would sometimes go with me, but often times I was just out by myself, for hours, just running. I don’t remember my back ever hurting or my knees crunching either. I weighed about 110 lbs, and felt so at ease in my skin that I never really thought about any particular part of body, other then that it was a strong body. Now there is a struggle sometimes between me-now and me-then. There are times when the very last thing I want to do is go out for a run. If I manage to get beyond that moment, and I make it out the door, I’m good. I can run, and I enjoy it, and even if it doesn’t exactly feel good, I know I’m better then I was before I went. I wonder what it is that makes it so hard sometimes?
As I grow older, I slowly approach a place of invisibility, middle age hood. In this American society few things are more invisible then a middle aged woman. I'm ok with that, actually. Sort of takes the pressure off. What has become profoundly apparent though, is that for the first time in my life, my decisions about which choices I make have become more and more permanent. Every decision I make to go in one direction leaves a path not taken. Time for humans is not infinite. I only want to live the fullest most authentic life that I am able to. I want to respect my body and keep it strong. I want to continue to find my edges, and to try and go beyond what is familiar and comfortable to me. For some reason seeing the FunnyRunner in the wee hours of a chilly morning reminds me of these things.