Saturdays are my long-run day. And today, I didn’t feel like running. But I knew I had to — this week had been too much. My mind, body and soul were exhausted. So on paper it didn’t make sense: Why go out and pound myself even more? But runners know why we run. Running is our Xanax, Zoloft and Prozac rolled into one. It’s the two or three hours every week when we can sort through our lives and try to make a little sense of it. Right now, I probably need twice that time –life has been throwing a lot a curveballs. And most of them have been aimed right at my head.
As running days go, today was amazing. The sunrise over the Reservoir was glorious. I got on the trail and my legs started to loosen. The temperature was a brisk 45 degrees and steam wafted off my shoulders. My mind was lost in my week. My job. My dad. He isn’t feeling well and lives far away. I kept running, passing groups of Fleet Feet runners who are training for the Blues Marathon. I crossed Hwy. 51 and then I-55. I went past Highland Colony and past St. Andrew’s Upper School. I kept running. My mind was totally lost. I kept thinking about my parents.
Then I looked at my watch. Eight miles! That would mean I would have to run 16 miles today. I haven’t run more than 13 miles in over a year. Add to it, legs were wiped out from a rough week of training. This wouldn’t be easy.
But life isn’t easy. I think that’s why I was pushing myself so hard today. I know the next two months will be challenging to me. It I can push myself to the brink, I’ll be ready for whatever life throws at me.
At mile 12, I started to have leg cramps. Great. I still had four more miles to go. This was going to be a gut check. And my checks were bouncing.
Then I saw John and Newman. Both are amazing runners (I’m not.) They were standing at the Old Canton Exit off of the Trace, talking. I joined in the conversation for a minute and Newman headed back to the Old Craft Center parking lot. John agreed to slow down (he’s a jet and I’m a biplane) so we could run together for three miles. My cramps faded as we ran.
John did most of the talking, I was too tired. He talked about how his daughter wanted to put together puzzles this morning. “How do you say no to that? Really. All we can give our children is time.” John’s transformation as an athlete is remarkable. He lost a lot of weight and became a very quick marathon runner. So I knew that part of his story was amazing. But what he told me next, I didn’t know.
“I got downsized from my job in 2012. Was out of work for several months. Took a part-time job to keep my family fed. Took another job. Lost it, too. Now I have a new job that I’ve been in for two months. You really don’t appreciate how good you have things until you lose your job.”
John hadn’t complained about his job loss. He had just gotten busy.
We continued to run and he said that all he wanted to do was help and inspire people. He and I agreed that the bad things in life are blessings in the disguise. How else would we be shoved out of our comfort zones?
He prepared to run back and I headed on to my house. I shook his hand and smiled. Not only had John gotten me closer to home, he helped me grapple with my life. He put some things in perspective.
When I got to mile 16, I thought, John’s wish is coming true. Because he sure helped me today.
Life is tough. But it sure is easier with a running partner.