What makes you a feral runner?
An empty street. A crowded path.
A challenging, maybe even dangerous, route infamous for its potholes, hills, hordes of cyclists or cougar sightings (yes, I said it).
A solid interview for that perfect job; a dismal failure.
A big birthday, one ending with a 0 or 5.
Fiery conflict.
An illicit romance.
A hurtful secret.
Fierce feelings: hatred and revenge.
A close encounter.
Spring.
The freedom run feels drug induced, and it is, sort of; the wild chemicals burst in our brains when exposed to speed. You could run forever but you’re riding shotgun, nobody put you in charge of landing the plane. Like an after-party or a post-fireworks bbq, the freedom run follows on the heels of an event, but it leads you. It is sweet fire that carries you far and away. It feels wild.
Like so many precious animal and human populations, the freedom run is under threat and it needs your protection. You must guard against exploitation. In a commercialized sport like running, our attentions are easily victimized by the latest Big Brand ads forcing doggie running shoes and new gel flavors (like toasted English muffin with anchovy paste) down our throats. The process of commercial exchange will gradually, with our unconscious permission, rob us of our rights to choose and will end in freedom’s extinction. I can feel its breath slowing with every unnecessary piece of running gear I buy, and with each step I take on the fake surface of a treadmill while the sun shines outdoors. The only reliable way to resuscitate the heart of freedom is to work at making each run your own. Find your own rhythm and lend it a beat.
An empty street. A crowded path.
A challenging, maybe even dangerous, route infamous for its potholes, hills, hordes of cyclists or cougar sightings (yes, I said it).
A solid interview for that perfect job; a dismal failure.
A big birthday, one ending with a 0 or 5.
Fiery conflict.
An illicit romance.
A hurtful secret.
Fierce feelings: hatred and revenge.
A close encounter.
Spring.
The freedom run feels drug induced, and it is, sort of; the wild chemicals burst in our brains when exposed to speed. You could run forever but you’re riding shotgun, nobody put you in charge of landing the plane. Like an after-party or a post-fireworks bbq, the freedom run follows on the heels of an event, but it leads you. It is sweet fire that carries you far and away. It feels wild.
Like so many precious animal and human populations, the freedom run is under threat and it needs your protection. You must guard against exploitation. In a commercialized sport like running, our attentions are easily victimized by the latest Big Brand ads forcing doggie running shoes and new gel flavors (like toasted English muffin with anchovy paste) down our throats. The process of commercial exchange will gradually, with our unconscious permission, rob us of our rights to choose and will end in freedom’s extinction. I can feel its breath slowing with every unnecessary piece of running gear I buy, and with each step I take on the fake surface of a treadmill while the sun shines outdoors. The only reliable way to resuscitate the heart of freedom is to work at making each run your own. Find your own rhythm and lend it a beat.
If you unconsciously live someone else’s dream,
you will become a plastic pig on a bbq.
“The stuff you own ends up owning you.”
1 comment:
So true!
I like some gadgets and I love numbers, but this stuff can hold us back. LIke the Garmin--it tells the pace, and maybe it's the one I'm supposed to run that workout, but my body has to have its imput too.
I've toyed with the idea of letting go, running everything by feel, even speed workouts...just easy runs so far.
And that's just one aspect. All that running paraphenalia sometimes scares me. Most of it isn't very biodegradable. And then most of our shoes are shipped in from other countries. I can't imagine longer term effects yet...licenses for runners?
Oh, check these folks out: http://runningbarefoot.org/
I was regularly running barefoot on grass down south one summer, but haven't made the transition to the city very well. Too much broken glass.
Anyway, thanks for the deep thoughts.
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