For 13 miles in the teens I asked myself why. Never found the answer so I'll run again and maybe then I'll know.
Running is the metaphor of life.
There have many a times when I have asked myself why, why I am here, why I put myself through it, why? And while I am “there” I cannot find a logical reason. I question my sanity, the benefits if any and I tell myself I can do without or at the very least, find better and easier ways to get the same.
Easier ways to get the same…? The path of least resistance has never proven to fulfill me.
If there are ways to get the same, I have not found them in the easy path. Perhaps I have not ventured out into that path long enough to find out. I have loved intensely as I have run intensely. I have hurt intensely and deeply, too. I have questioned then my sanity and the benefits if any and I have vowed never to be there again. I have woken up with a heart aching and I have wondered if I will ever be able to piece it back together. I have been unsure it will ever heal completely.
I have wished I had never committed to that run, I have wished I could turn back time and gone in a different direction, but it’s too late by then. There is no turning back; I’m too far into it. I have completed it each and every single time, hurting, aching, in tears, broken down. I have given it my all because I don’t know how to give less.
I haven’t always found the answer to “why” while I’m hurting and even after the pain has stopped, but one thing I do know, I will run again and I might ask that question again, and I’ll undoubtedly love again and then this time I might not have to ask that question and if I do, I know the answer, because the reward is the satisfaction of having experienced that feeling like I’ve never had before. Like no one can.
It is so worth it.