Running

In the fading light of another February evening I am stretching. The holiday season has been over for a while now and beach season is looming its bronzed face so it is back to the grindstone. Ten minutes earlier and I was lacing up my blue Sacony's running shoes, trying to think of a reason, any reason, why I shouldn't be running. Oh, I've got homework to do... wait no, I can do that later while Lakin is watching CSI: NY. Well, the dishes need to be washed... Seriously Chris? You'll be gone for 30 minutes (make that 50)!

The inner dialogue of the procrastinator; an ongoing battle that rages inside even the most ambitious.

I look down at my wristwatch. It's blue and something I picked up at a Target in Charleston while I was stationed there. Nothing fancy. The time reads 09:35. This actually isn't the real time because I have forgotten how to set this particular watch. The time is actually 5:00 PM. The time on the watch is not what I use it for, so the error isn't noted. I just need this watch for the stopwatch feature.

I am done stretching so now I place my headphones in my ears. Then, I take my iPod and feed it down my hoodie so I can place it in my pocket and not risk getting tangled in the wires of the headphones as I’m flailing my arms about. I step from my driveway into my street. I have goals. I have a destination that I want to reach. I want to run 5 miles. I didn't start here. Just running was my goal in the beginning. It all started on deployment; nothing to do during your time off except sleep and workout. So working out started with the elliptical. Then, as my endurance built up, I went on to running. That's when I got motivated. What about running 2 miles? Did it and along with every other goal. The only goal that has eluded me thus far is the 5-mile mark.

Not this day. This day I was going to make it. I was going to hit that mark if I had to die doing it. I was going to Sparta-kick that bitch in the face! Okay that's a little severe. I was going to hit that mark even if it meant that I would have sore calves the next day.   

I started my playlist, which is comprised of a veritable who's who of pulsing mod rock. I start running. I begin to build up what I like to call my "running rhythm" - that's the point where I’m running at somewhere between 5.5 to 6 MPH. By the time Island in the Sun by Weezer comes on I’m there. 

When I run outside in my neighborhood I have a strategy. I run out half the distance I wish to run and once I reach that point I turn around and run home. That way I’m either going to run all the way home or take a hell of a long time to get back. 

I'm 15 minutes in and I begin to feel the sweat build up even though it's 47 degrees outside. I love this feeling. Most people when they sweat they wipe it away. I tend to relish in it. It's the body’s nature cooling system. If we didn't have a cool house to run into once we started getting hot, we would just stop working and the sweat would cool us off. I like to think about how much the human race has come along in this aspect. We don't even need our built in defenses because we've build things to do it for us.

I'm at 25 minutes now. The band Keane is singing about how they wonder. I've reached the overpass that shades the nearby Interstate system here. It's conveniently 2.5 miles from my house. I stand in the middle of it looking out over the rush hour traffic. Little ants with red and white lights. Men and women driving home. Somewhere I need to be headed here in a second. If I could just get this knot out of my right calf. CRAP this sucks! Okay look back over where you just ran here from. I look down at my feet and sweat drips from my nose. This is just one goal. One hill. One of many. 

This is the beginning of a new me one that can conquer anything. I set goals. I attain them. I make new ones. This is how I live my life. I didn't join the military to quit it. I didn't start college classes with a full time job to fail. 

I sure as hell didn't run 2.5 miles to not turn around and run 2.5 miles back.