The Things We Left Behind

in our computer....

I was looking through some old files and found this little number I wrote a while ago...It was meant to be posted to another blog/creative zine that I worked on for a while. But now, here's everybody's chance (all 3 or four of you that read this blog) to see it hit the light of day.


Cold Turkey



On Your Mark

Ready

The horn sounded and people at the front of the line began to run. I placed my earphones into my ears and scanned through my artists on my ipod to select the artist appropriate for this endeavor. I scanned to ‘The Prodigy’ with it’s electronic beats but after realizing that I always feel compelled to do things faster when I listened to them, I selected my default, U2. I stretch a bit while I waited for my section to move up and took a cursory look around at the people in my area.
Families were standing next to each other giving each other pep talks. Couples were giving each other back and neck massages, friends were gossiping and I was waiting and wondering where my husband was standing. Probably somewhere at the 6 minute mile. I stood at the 11 minute mile mark only because that was the last mark available. But honestly, I should have been somewhere around the 20 minute mile mark, if only they had a marker like that.
I signed up for a 4 mile run. I intended to walk the whole way. I was supporting my husband and doing some exercise of my own. Walking 4 miles was not going to be a problem for me since I often walked that much on any given day. My husband has been trying to get a number of races under his belt so he can run the NYC Marathon next year. So to do it together, I would walk and he would run.
Why didn’t I plan to run? Well, many years ago I tore the meniscus and a ligament in my knee. Since that time, running was not a form of exercise but of torture. Running after my dogs was not something I saw as a healthy thing, but a sign of insanity. Whenever I did run (not very far, mind you), the next day, I would have stiffness in my knee and walking would produce popping feelings as if I had bubble wrap in my knees. There was no doubt in my mind that I would be walking this race unless I wanted to be in traction.
As I my group started to move closer to the start line, people began to walk faster. When the start was approaching their feet, people began to run and I got sucked into moment and the movement and began to run.
Bono was singing and my brain was wondering ‘why the hell are you running?’
Not too bad, I thought to myself. I’m not feeling any pain. I’m not breathing very hard, nothing is jiggling too unbearably.
So I was on cruise control while Bono was talking about his ‘Vertigo.’ People of all proportions weaved in front of and around me. The sun was shining above me and the trees were swaying in the wind. I scanned peripherally to see doggies playing in the dog runs and thought about what my dogs were doing at that very same moment. Probably sleeping or waiting for my return at the door. Doggies! So cute! Love them!
Ow! Ow! Ow! Pain! Pain in the my side….a stitch in my side. Breathe into the pain I remembered instructors telling me from my bicycle days. Inhaling deeply and concentrating fully into the pain, the stitch subsided after a bit…somehow assisted by a ‘Miracle Drug’. Time to just walk this puppy, I considered. Swinging my arms at heart level to add to the intensity of the walking and to assist in the cardiovascularness of this activity, I felt good. This was nice….
Hey, that guy was way behind me on the starters line….how did he get here? I picked up the pace to a light jog. As he move progressively further ahead, I progressively proceeded to run again. There was no way this older man – older than my dad – was going to beat me across the finish line. The pavement was getting harder on my knees. I could feel my muscle crunching on top of one another. Could feel my body begin to pile up on itself like the metal at a wrecking yard. Ok, this wasn’t going to happen. This running thing was not going to work. Not even in a ‘City of Blinding Lights’. No chance, no way. But I was still running and not stopping. Maybe I could do this after all. Maybe the jiggling wouldn’t bother me so much if I lost more of it by running.
By the time Bono was discussing ‘The Origin of the Species’, I had committed to staying in the race and finishing it whether running or walking. My husband cheered me on from the sidelines after he had already finished and it pushed me further as I pushed my ipod onto Coldplay.
The next day I was incredibly sore but nothing unbearable. I was going to be ok. A day after that, I wanted to run somewhere, anywhere for no reason. A few weeks later, I signed up for another race. And after completing that one, I signed up for two more races. Is this what it’s like to get hooked onto something?

(Dedicated to my husband, who wrote his own version of “Cold Turkey” for a Spanish running magazine. His article is entitled “Frio Guajolote”.)