As much as I love biking, and my martial arts, why is it I dream about running?
And I do. Dream about running. I am in the midst of reading the new Runner’s World magazine. I look forward to it every month. Similarly I look forward to my biking magazines. Also similarly (I like this word today) to the biking magazines, I don’t get the technical lingo they are using. And though I ‘kinda sorta’ read those parts I do not retain the information. Some of this information is written solely for the scientists who read these magazines. Or people with better focus than I.
The parts I like are the stories. I like reading about the runners. The new runners. Old runners. Great runners. Average runners. Over come all obstacles to run runners. People are great that way.
I tried running as an exercise, activity, for the first time when I was about 21. I was fat. I was not yet a mom. I did not work outside of the home. But let me tell you I kept one mean and clean home. But I knew I had to do more than clean the mirrors and sweep the floors. A friend of mine came out to the house to run with me. I didn’t do too bad. I made it the mile or so without passing out. I loved it. I felt good. Considering how large I was and out of shape I was, I did not do too bad. But within days my knees could not take it. One day after a “run” I was walking across my living room, upright, as we humans are apt to do. The next thing I knew I was taking a header to the floor. My knee had given out. It just would not, did not, hold me up. Hence finding myself admiring the carpet fibers close up and personal.
Over the years I have tried to run many different times. My knees never live up to my heart and desire of running. I truly have dreams, the real while I sleep kind of dreams, of running. I’ve even tried “pseudo” running. Treadmills, ellipticals, Nordic Trac (okay, more like skiing but still). But the knee (now plural) can not hold up to the running. I again found myself face down after trying to run again when I started martial arts training.
So instead of running, I read about running. That could sound like quite a pitiful statement. But it’s not. I love the things that people who run (or bike, or ski, or swim, or martial arts) do to be able to do the thing they love. It seems that people who are dedicated to doing something usually (in my humble opinion) seem able to dedicate themselves to something else. Something fun. Something good. Something helpful. Something difficult. Something extraordinary. Or something consistent.
I just love this about people.
Somewhere down the road I’ll probably try to run again. For some reason it calls to me. This thing called running. In the meantime I’ll fill up my time doing all of these other things I can do. And dream about running. At least in my dreams I am not falling on my face. I’m running.