When I Don't Run

When I was in college I was impressed by a certain essay we were asked to consider titled "Why I Write" by Joan Didion. I liked that short story starting with the cadence and rythmn of it's title but what really stuck to my ribs all these years was the fact that she doesn't really fulfill the promise of the title. She uses images and paints a picture which brings the reader into a deeper meaning. A meaning that exists in the white spaces around the words, a meaning of common fears that we all share and exist off the page.

It was about this time that I had planned to write an entry inspired by my Writing 101 assignment so many years ago, something I was going to call "Why I Run". That's going to have to wait because despite my determination and grand plans I have not been running -- much. This was to be the height of my marathon training. I had been pushing toward this time with both anticipation and expectation, excited to move past the time of long slow miles and finally push harder, and more than anything, go faster. My 12 week plan was printed and sitting on my desk ready to go. Running is pretty simple after that. You just need to put on your shoes and go do it.

But I haven't done it. In the last month I've logged less than 20 miles, well short of the 200 or more I should have completed. And not just completed but run with the purpose of a person devoted and committed . It just isn't that easy.

Running for me is all about heart. When I lose sight, when I stray and feel lost it can be extremely difficult for me to ind the road. Not because I don't want to run but because I have lost the heart to run. It's both a passion and a celebration of being alive, an exploration of my potential taken just one step at a time. But when I mess up or other events in my life go wrong, as happened last summer, the fire that feeds my passion for most everything, including running and blogging, is quelled. The times that I do run are mostly uninspired and only serve to confirm my condition.

This lull will end now, weeks old, not months, and I will return to the roads. That's where I'll find myself again and continue the quest. That's where I'll find the my inspiration to write an essay titled "Why I Run" and when I do write it it's meaning might be found in the white space.