Do I run to lose myself?
I’ve heard of people taking up an activity to help them find themselves, but is it possible that my goal is the exact opposite?
It’s quite the Philosophical Question to ponder.
I definitely have lost some of myself through running. Over 60 lbs at this point, in fact. I’ve shed the skin of fat, lazy Austin and millions of gallons of sweat along the way.
But I’m asking a deeper question here.
Am I trying to run away from my life, and find something better out on the road?
When I woke up this morning, I did not want to get out of bed. Even though it was Saturday, and I thankfully didn’t have to go to work (it was a horrible week, but I will not talk about my desk job on the blog), I had no interest in starting my day.
It could have been because of the dusting of snow I saw outside the bedroom window.
When I have a rough day, it would be nice to have someone to talk to about it.
Conversely, when something good happens, I’d love to be able to share my good news with someone. Not that I don’t enjoy blogging about it to you guys.
I checked my phone hoping for an email, a message, or even a notification from one of those dating apps I’m trying. Just any sign that there was someone out there looking to interact with me.
When there was nothing, it made me want to tunnel under the covers and not come out for the entire weekend. What’s the point of getting out of bed if no one will even notice?
When I run, I’m able to leave those thoughts behind. Along with all the stress that the world serves up to me on a daily basis.
I’m literally running away from my life.
Out on the road, being alone is perfectly fine. It allows me to set my own pace, decide on my own distance, and no one else gets any say in that.
I always drift off mentally to my current writing project. Uninterrupted by all the things that make me want to stay in bed, I am able to get so much accomplished.
I always find that to be ridiculously ironic. I hate being alone, yet I love being alone on my runs so that I can think and create.
That means I want to lose myself and run away from my life, right?
I ran into my neighbor at the grocery store last night, and she asked me how the TV series was going. I made a face, and then told her about the annoying feedback I got this week from a reader in my producer’s office.
She suggested that I lose the plot device that is the key to the entire story. It was as if she’d read Back To The Future, and said that they should ditch the whole time travel thing.
I love this TV series, and think it’s the best story I’ve ever created. Then I read that comment and basically lost my $%^&.
I just wanted to lace up my sneakers and go for a run because I could not deal with yet another roadblock in my quest to achieve my writing dream.
And for the record, I’m not dropping the plot device. I’ve made that clear to my producer, and told him I’d find someone else to produce if he didn’t agree with those terms.
When I inevitably get back to The House on the Hill, I always find myself waiting for me on the porch.
It’s a vicious, sweaty cycle. I manage to lose myself for a half hour to an hour, but after burning all those calories and enjoying my freedom, I simply follow my trail of sweat back to where I started.
If I really am running to lose myself, I’m not doing a very good job…