Embracing the running for what it is; Insanity.
Sometimes, I think about what makes me special. I’m not a musical genius, I’m not an All-American or even a varsity athlete, and my biology teacher once told me I have no artistic talent. So what is it that makes me me? The answer to that question is simple: I’m a little bit crazy. For starters, I enjoy facing pain. As a matter of fact, I love to face pain. I don’t say this because I enjoy feeling pain; no, I hate the sensation just as anyone would. But subconsciously, I enjoy it because I know that the pain I face will do wonders for me in the future. As a distance runner, I slam my body against solid concrete for thousands of steps and chase pain each day. Sometimes, the steps come with ease and a smile on my face as I laugh with my teammates on an easy run. But other days, it’s pure misery. On other days, each step is nothing more than another blow against the concrete. Each step is a struggle, each step is another wince of pain, each step adds to the inferno in my lungs and cries of my aching quads as I push myself up the hills in the blistering summer heat. And those are the days I love the most, those are the days I live for. So far, I’ve been called “dumb,” “stupid,” “crazy,” and “out of my mind.” And each of those descriptions are 100% correct. I am crazy to do what I do: nobody in their sane mind runs 13 miles for fun. So maybe I am a little bit crazy, but is that really a bad thing? I remember two years ago before I started running, when most people would call me sane. But what was I then: I was a sophomore with his eyes always glued to the game running on the video screen in front of him. I was a boy that didn’t know what it was like to put in effort and see results. I was a boy who didn’t know how to believe himself. So maybe I’m better off a little bit crazy. As I’ve embraced the semi-insane culture of running I’ve learned that if I want to get anywhere in life, I’m going to need to be a little bit crazy. I’m going to have to be crazy enough to get up before 8 on summer mornings, I’m going to have to be crazy enough to not only fight through the pain but I’ll have to be crazy enough to embrace it. So I run through the pain, I run with the pain, and I run for the pain. And when I see myself get stronger physically and mentally, when I see myself believe in myself in a way sophomore me couldn’t even imagine, I realize that it’s okay to be crazy. As a matter of fact, I wish I never had been sane.
- Anonymous
