The word “future” has always been an anxious, distant thing to me. As my graduation date approaches, the future is slowly easing into the present. The thrill of decisions and the adventure of the unknown has created a new sense of instability in my life. Months have passed where I’ve been huddled on the couch writing dozens of essays and cramming for countless tests, focusing so intently on my education and career that my passion for running has completely dwindled to just a memory.
We all have a different story when it comes to running: maybe you joined track or cross country and the rest was history; or maybe you needed a healthy way to get away from a busy work or family life; or you’re like me, and you laced up your dirty Converse when you were twelve-years-old, and ran by yourself every day after school for the pure joy of it. As I developed my passion for running (and got better shoes) I found an outlet to bring the weight of the day to a close. All through high school, and most of college, I made sure to give myself a small part of the day to run. As you can see from my most recent challenges, running and I have since lost our special bond.
At first, I didn’t notice how frazzled and anxious I had become; I continued on with a one-track mind, putting all my misplaced energy into worrying about the future. When I did finally realize that something was different–that something inside of me had changed–I found myself craving that outlet I’d lost months before. Now more than ever, I find myself needing that rare place of safety and challenge that running encompasses.
Now, as I quickly approach arguably the most transitional and daunting period of my life, I’ve begun to fall back on training. Setting a goal, waking up early (or staying up late), and lacing up my running shoes rain or snow, certainly gives me a familiar sense of purpose; it also feels just like coming home.
