Run Away

1.00.07

6.142 miles in one hour and seven seconds.

It's 7:14 and I am just leaving Luke's, our local running store and heart of our running community. They host the Park City Morning Running Group on Wednesday mornings by sending in one of the staff to open up and grab a a box of bagels. The bagels slow us down long enough to for our eyes to linger on the latest high tech shoe or hip running garb. It wasn't too hot this morning and I do look forward to the bagels at the end. Today it's whole wheat with blue berry cream cheese. It's a short walk down the alley and the last bite of bagel goes to my sleepy dog who greets me as I come in the door.

At nine, Rebel doesn't run with me anymore. He nuzzled and whined to get me out of bed for the year after my break up. He was much more effective than the antidepressants that my doctor kept suggesting. Now I am paying him back by running on my own before we head out on our daily walk.

My running time is my time with god. My time when everything inside of me bounces around like a water bottle in the trunk of the car. I can hear the bottle rolling around every time I brake or turn and as I run I visualize the black gunkiness of yesterday’s thoughts rolling around inside of me, turning hard and brittle enough to shatter a little more with each stride of my run. Eventually all the black goo turns to glass and shatters into dust. As I exhale the last of my pain is breathed out. My insides are sparkly clean. The empty rice bowl is ready to be filled with today’s gifts.

This morning I was thinking about my weight. Last week Sherry noticed that I was looking slim - and I immediately gained 5 lbs. The sirens went off and red lights flashed a warning, someone had noticed me. As a kid, my grandmother used to dress me in loose "little house on the prairie" styleless garb to hide and protect me from my pedophile grandpa. Today it’s too hot to cover from throat to toe so instead I use the extra pounds to stay just under the radar. I feel safest when there is no blip on the screen, no audible evidence that I exist.

I feel safest when no one notices me. I feel loneliest when no one notices me.