Today’s run: 1.4 miles, 15 minutes. YT: 102.8. A short run as a warmup for some strength work. Today I saw two things of interest. A white man talking on a cell phone, wearing a black hoodie that said, “An American Minority” on the back. And two, a white paper sign on the sidewalk that said, “Clean up your poop.” The interesting thing about the sign was that it was actually *under* a piece of dog poop, which meant the aggrieved individual went to quite a lot of (icky) trouble to make his point.

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Artist Rebecca Floyd - http://www.images.com/artist/rebecca-floyd/

Trace talks today about how she feels when asked, “Why do you run?”

It made me think about a question I’ve bumped up against before: Are we inevitably running to run away from something? Is running just the healthy version of drinking, a cloud of endorphins replacing a tipsy glow?

Maybe. But at least when we’re ready to do the work of healing, we’re healthy and strong, not hungover and cranky.

And so, my answer to the question, “Why do you run?” – or at least to why I started running: To get over a break up, of course. Why else?

Well, more or less.

It was actually 6 months after my “official” breakup, but if you’ve ever been in a serious long-term relationship, you know that ending things isn’t like crossing the bridge from the US to Mexico. It’s a long, painful transatlantic flight to Siberia. It takes time.

Come September 2009, I had landed in Siberia, alone. I was frustrated and lonely, and ready to throw myself at the world. The solution was to spend too much time at a bar called Hal’s, drinking white wines from New Zealand and kissing inappropriate men under the shadows of palm trees and street lamps.

In the mornings, I’d drag my mildly (or occasionally excrutiatingly) hungover body out of bed. Sometimes I did something I had never done before: I smoked cigarettes before breakfast. Sometimes four. Or instead of breakfast. I’d crawl to the kitchen, make coffee, and absorb myself in meaningless Internet until my boss started Skyping me, then I’d absorb myself in whatever work demanded.

I rarely felt good. I felt every part of me hardening up like an orange that dries as it’s rotting.

I realized quickly that I had evolved into a situation that threatened to become damaging – to my body, my heart, my work, and my future relationships.

And I realized that if I was to change directions, I needed another path to walk on.

Or, at it turned out, to run on. Running was my way out. I ordered a Runner’s World training series, which doubled the amount of miles I had previously been running and introduced speed work, something I’d never done before. Very quickly I began to feel better. Grounded. Whole.

The rest is pretty much history. I still spend time at Hal’s and others of its ilk, of course, with an SV between my fingers. Some times too much time. But mostly,  just enough time to feel good, share laughs with friends, and know that I’ll run tomorrow.

Why did you start running?