Tomorrow it’s out the door, pretty close to sunrise, to go run Brooklyn, baby. Why on earth do I do this? It will be my eleventh (twelfth?) half marathon since I started running in 2008. Am I slightly deranged?
I find 13.1 miles to be a perfect distance. It tuckers you out but doesn’t take the whole day (I’m not speedy, people, my two marathons basically took half-days to complete.) After a half I feel like my mind is blown but the euphoria is not so strong as to disorient me- I can still find the subway.
After a half it’s time for lunch, not dinner. After a half it’s time for a long walk, not a big nap. Oh wait, are you still wondering why I run or why anyone runs anyway because nobody says we have to get up well before the sun and be on pavement for 1.5-3.5 hours and yes many think that is bonkers.
You are right. It is a little bonkers. It is also life-affirming. It is a privilege. It is head-clearing. It is tension-draining. It is free time to solve problems, plan days, and, bonus, strangers often cheer you on from the sidelines.
I don’t run to weigh less. I don’t run to be fitter. I don’t run to fit in to my clothes. I run to create space. I run to expand time. I run to figure it out. I am grateful to run.