My fingers, with their bitten nails, their scars from cat claws, and their few tiny hairs just above a couple of joints, drag across the old, wire fence, making a ratatat-ratatat ring as I run along the gravel-dust path passed the tennis courts, the football and the baseball fields, the children's park with its playground, slides, swings, seesaws, all as one would expect, around the golf course at the center of it all, sloping hills, sandpits, ponds, and fountains, as I run passed others, some traveling the same clockwise trail as me, some counterclockwise, some running, some walking, with dogs or children or lovers or friends, perhaps in solitude, some smiling and laughing and nodding hellos and others keeping their eyes from mine, avoiding greeting, and then everything slows down to a walking pace, the ratatat long gone replaced only by heavy breathing.
I know a lot of people who don't like to go running outside. They don't like the heat. They don't like the uneven ground. They don't like the lack of privacy. There are plenty of reasons to dislike outdoor running. I understand that. There's nothing wrong with that. A lot of people don't like running in general, and that's fine too. Flat feet, short legs, simply having a stockier build, can all be dissuading to people considering running. Whatever a person's reason, there's nothing wrong with disliking running. I, however, kind of love it.
My description above is relating the basic experience of running around the 3.8 mile loop from my hotel here in Tulsa around LaFortune Park, a trail with which I have become quite familiar in the last two weeks. I generally try to get out and run the loop at least every other day, and I'm happy to report that every time I have gone out, I have beaten my personal record for average minutes/mile--generally around 10 or so, though that number is a little misleading, as that's including the first 5 minutes which I usually walk to wake up my legs rather than starting the actual run cold turkey.
Running isn't a new thing to me, really. I went a decent amount over the summer in Cherokee, and I've had a handful of other times when I've been consistent about it the last few years. I benefit from naturally having a runner's build, being tall, thin, and having the deepest foot arches I've ever seen--a trait which is great for running, though not so great for maintaining the shape of shoes. With that in mind, it makes sense that I would like running, purely on a physical level.
I also like running on a mental level. I like the individuality of it--sure one can go running with friends, but a person's pace and duration in a run is all his or her own. I enjoy running outside, because I like being out in the sun and the fresh air. I like seeing people, be they other runners or families or people walking their dogs or playing Frisbee, whatever they're up to, I enjoy seeing others enjoying the outdoors. I think a fair amount when I go running. It was actually during a run that I began considering writing this very post--the post began with my fingers dragging across the fence, because I actually did just that mid-run a day or two ago. I like being able to let my mind consider and process the various sensory impulses I come across during a run: the heavy breathing, the soreness of exercised muscles, the slick sweat, the brightness of the sun, the wonderful cooling wind. Running is such a sensory goldmine. It's a raw, individualistic exercise and yeah, I kind of love it.
I also hear tale it's good for you, which is a nice plus.
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