Running to what I know best x

Running races on a Sunday morning has somehow become a ‘family favourite’ amongst my family. Unlike most normal people, we have found
ourselves happily waking up long before the sun has even set up it’s stage
prior to it’s rising, so that we can run ungodly distances, up ungodly hills
and sometimes, enduring ungodly heat. That being said, we doing it all of the
time, not quite as frequently as we would like, but frequently enough to keep
us coming for more.

The Wits 15km Kudus race, which always happens to be the
very first race of the year, was one in which we have made a pact to never
miss. Although some members of my family did not quite honour that pact (ahem,
looks at sister), my father and I laced up our running shoes, sprayed half a
can of sunscreen on our bodies (or at least I did), and ventured out to run one
of the roughest races we have ever run. It’s not merely just the up hills that
make you feel like Johannesburg is nothing more than a mountain in disguise,
but mainly due to the fact that all the festive season’s remnants are ALL over
us, if not our bodies, DEFINITELY on our faces. Hardly a single soul leaves that
race feeling like an entire season of training made it easy, barring those who
actually win the race. It is so humbling, to the point that you regret every sip of
alcohol, bite of dessert and gym session that you turned down.
Despite all of that, I (along with many of the other
runners), find so much happiness and freedom in being a part of a community of
crazy, somewhat sadistic runners. Every little run, every little step and every
moment spent on the road, track or treadmill has a big lesson and impact on my
life, something that money cannot buy, and no other person can give me, even if
they tried. Even though I leave the race looking, and feeling a tad bit
tattered, I always feel like I’ve somehow gained new perspective on something
in my life, even if I have run the same race many a time before.
This particular race left me feeling as though I had a long
way to go with regards to my training for the future races, and definitely had
me thinking of ways to improve my running. It also made me realize that much
with anything in life, any road to success is generally a bumpy, windy and
difficult road to trek. With every step taking a large amount of effort at some
stage, and every more requiring the sacrifice of something, like rest for
example, nothing worth having ever comes easily, and as appealing as it was to
stop running and sit down on someone’s grass, call for an ambulance and concoct
a decent enough story that will get them to drop me off at home with a big bowl
of pasta, I knew that whatever relief I would get from quitting would be
fleeting. So, I ran on, hoping that as the journey went on, it would become
easier, and if it didn’t, that I would become stronger.
This race also made me realise that the same way in which Rome was not built in a single day, every little step taken in training for the next race would require more patience than anything else, especially from someone like me who always wants result as soon as I’ve decided that I want any. Looking at everything with a magnifying glass will always render the same result and thought process, which is generally fueled by panic. 
Blogging has become something that I run to, metaphorically
speaking because my laptop is hardly ever that far. With every pursuit that has
come with my newly found passion, there has been an equally weighted difficulty
that has challenged me, and with that, the easier option to stop pursuing what
I love and sit back on someone else’s grass, conjuring up a million excuses and
give up. I didn’t see it before, but running has given me an understanding of what
it is to work ridiculously hard, even though it would make better sense, and be
completely acceptable to sit back and ignore the desire in my heart to be so
much more.

Thus, I have found the reasoning behind why I consistently
choose to wake up insanely early on a Sunday morning, run routes that a
sadistic person would find fitting, and do it all over again when I am given
the chance. I love the things I learn from those challenges, and more so, love
myself more afterwards.



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