Sunday, February 26, 2012

Running dreams

Last night I dreamed I was running. It was effortless and I was weightless. I could hear my feet slapping the pavement. And my breath - the loud breathing of working out hard and yet controlled because I'm in shape. I miss those days.

And then I'm getting ready to go to a race but I've missed the start. And looking down at my feet I realize I have forgotten my running shoes. I'm not prepared. I'm not ready.

I ran a lot of races growing up - throughout middle school - community and running club 5K's and 10K's with my dad and then meets in high school - cross country and indoor and outdoor track. Not so much in high school but before that, I used to get sick to my stomach I was so nervous before my races. Despite going ahead of time - a couple days before - to run the course with my dad, I was so afraid I would get lost during the race. I was in good shape so I certainly wasn't going to be last with everyone running so far ahead of me that I couldn't see where they were running. And I wasn't the fastest so I certainly wasn't going to be leading the pack. And the races were always so well marked. So why was I so afraid of being lost? I was prepared. I was not alone. And yet sick to my stomach with nerves before every race. I would beg my dad to run the race with me but he was a competitive runner and wanted to beat his latest PR. He always finished with plenty of time for him to jog out to meet me on the course and run the last mile or so with me.

And so the gun would go off and the race would begin and my fear would vanish. And afterward, I'm high as a kite on endorphins. Laughing with my dad, telling stories, eating bananas and orange slices. So relieved another race was over. And I didn't get lost. Would I have done these races on my own? Most likely no. But this was time with my dad.

Now he's lost. And I don't run anymore. And I'm missing those days.