Allow me to set the scene. I am in the fourth grade, your typical awkward pre-teen, thrilled to have a pair of brand new sneakers. Not only that, but sneakers with built-in rubber springs that could help me run faster than ever before. They are Nike Shox, the premier sneaker of the elementary school world. It is a big deal, to say the least.
Fast forward to gym class the next day. Our teacher reminds us about the great opportunity we’ll have this year: running a mile every day at recess. She reminds us about the sparkly plastic keychain-feet we’ll be awarded with for every mile we run, as well as the T-shirt we’ll receive if we make it to 100 miles total. I had this opportunity last year, but as a third grader I couldn’t bring myself to waste precious monkey-bar and swing time running around a track. However, I had more incentive this year. My Nike Shox needed to be pushed to the limits.
Thus, I spend my year running in circles. I am showered with those sparkly plastic feet every gym class, and my Nike Shox live true to their advertising.
Though at first I was motivated by the glamour of my precious plastic prize, it became less about the reward and more about the simple act of running itself. Though I’m sure you’ve begun to think otherwise, this is not another carefully constructed Nike ad, nor is it a proposal of how to solve the rising child obesity rates in our country. I write to explain how I found the hidden and greatly under-appreciated feeling of leaving everything behind and hitting the trails, tracks and pathways with only a pair of sneakers and a desire to explore.
Nine years and quite a few pairs of brand new shoes later, I’ve found a sort of mobile-home through running. Wherever I may be, I can step out onto the open road and see where it takes me (although usually I hope it’s back to where I started, for getting lost is a bad habit of mine). When I tell people I’m about to go on a 10+ mile run, they look at me like I’m absolutely insane. Their eyes bug out of their heads, mouths drop, the whole shebang. They ask why—why on Earth would I voluntarily subject myself to such a grueling activity? The only way I can answer is to tell them to give it a try.
The misconception that running is a chore has spurred from the idea that in order to enjoy it, you have to have an Olympic-qualifying pace or superhuman lungs and legs allowing for immunity to cramps and resistance to the feeling that you’re about to either puke, pass out or both. The truth is, these fade fast if you give them a chance to.
Other nations have labeled us as a country of sluggish couch-potatoes. Is this really what we want to be defined as? We can transform this stereotype by simply stepping out the door and going for it. Don’t even think about starting on a treadmill...those death machines will have even the most avid runners in tears. It shouldn’t have to be around a track, either, for when you don’t have gym class incentives, that can get a bit old. Instead, grab sneakers and the appropriate number of layers (in this current New England winter that could leave you anywhere from scantily clad to a bundled-up Michelin man) and face whatever weather is out there. Focus on the world around and the road ahead. Go without a phone or GPS device and simply let instincts take over. Humans are built to be runners, for our ancestors’ way of hunting was to beat prey by endurance and run them to death. Because of this, we have ideal running anatomy.
Most importantly, don’t worry about the distance or speed. You don’t have to be a marathoner (unless we’re talking about Netflix, in which case you can learn a lot about procrastination endurance). All it takes is a mile or two at a comfortable pace and you’ll be on your way to endorphin paradise...not to mention that “summer bod” you’ll get. While funds for plane tickets to see the world may be lacking, it is easy to find the beautiful attractions of the world within your proximity.
Whether it be by buying a pair of Nike Shox or collecting sparkly plastic keychain feet, find the way to answer the call of human nature. Stop drop, and run. It’s what we were born to do.
