March Madness
I’m not a runner but I run a lot. I don’t have any breathing technique, I know nothing about my form, I own zero pieces of moisture-wicking clothing but I hate gyms and gathering enough people to chase a ball or a frisbee, so easy just a few years ago, is nearly impossible now. So I run. I don’t run because I want to look lean, I don’t run to be part of a community and I certainly don’t run for the pleasure of it. I run because it subsidizes the way I like to eat which is, mainly, poorly and often.
Or at least that’s why I’ve historically run. Lately, I’ve made long runs a welcome part of my self-quarantine schedule. For the first time, I’ve found myself really enjoying them. There hasn’t been a single day in the last six, days that have seen unprecedented cancellations and postponements, grim news and crushing uncertainty, in which I haven’t felt supremely better after a run. We are all struggling to find the thing that makes us feel normal at this time. I’m as shocked as anyone, a person who would have listed “eating fried catfish” as a hobby just days ago, that fitness has become that thing.
And it’s not really the fitness. I still don’t know what my resting heart rate is, I haven’t ordered any moisture-wicking clothing, I am totally unconcerned with shortening my average mile time. What I am enjoying is the isolation. True isolation. Yes, we are all stuck in our houses but at home there is nothing but bad news and time to absorb it, running gets me away from that. When I’m running, if I squint, it’s like the world is actually not engulfed in a pandemic. Cars move along the street, houses remain erect, some buildings have cars parked in front of them, indicating activity inside. When I hit a trail, normalcy becomes even more apparent. The birds don’t care about COVID-19, they aren’t interested in social distancing, they chirp and fly in their engrossing patterns as they ever have because they don’t watch the NBA. Baseball’s spring training may have been cut short but nature is training for spring just the same, with visible buds ceaselessly beating on through the dirt or on the tips of tree branches, a soothing reminder that life, not just viral life, is unstoppable.
This morning’s run was a little more ominous as there was a wild turkey in my yard when I left the house. Turkeys in my neighborhood are not unheard of but they usually travel in packs and in the early morning, this was a loner at eleven o’clock who had the unnerving appearance that he was looking around. When he saw me he seemed to say “Oh, you guys are still here? We were just checking out the place.”
But that is, of course, negative thinking, the type that melted away after a few miles. One foot after another, I tell myself. One foot in front of the other. I’m very lucky that I have the ability to do that simple task. I know others do not. I don’t know why my legs are strong, I certainly don’t work at it. But they are and they can go forever. I’ve run a marathon with these legs and a couple of half marathons. I once went fifty miles in a day with these legs. As I get older, I keep anticipating that I’ll lose this ability but it’s not today. I went ten miles today and stopped because I had other things to do, not because my legs insisted. My legs will do whatever I tell them. Some days my legs are fury. Some days they don't glide like usual, they bully, stomp and spread wrath. They pillory the pavement like the drumbeats of war. My legs can be Holst's Mars Movement, smashing the sidewalk like Ali did Frazier in Manilla. Other days my legs are weightlessness. They hold me up in a way that defies science. My legs can be Debussy’s Images, kissing the ground like a George Lucas spaceship landing on a platform. They’ve been a bit of both this last week, and everything in between. What they can’t be is defeated.
We all have invincible legs, even if they’re not legs. I think the reason I’ve enjoyed running this week like I never had before is because it makes me feel powerful in a time where everywhere else I am not. I’m incredibly lucky that I have found running, have the time, ability and means to do it. I don’t take it for granted. Nor do I assume that it will always make me feel invincible as we get deeper into the gets-worse-before-it-gets-better phase but it is helping now. One foot in front of the other. Do that long enough and you’ll be amazed at how far you go.