Plantar Fasciitis – A runner’s low
“For every runner who tours the world running marathons, there are thousands who run to hear the leaves and listen to the rain, and look to the day when it is suddenly as easy as a bird in flight.” George Sheehan
It’s interesting the things we take for granted. Running for example. Being able to run, to move- most of us take that for granted. So much actually that most of us do nothing with it. The majority of people don’t even walk anywhere anymore, let alone run. I wanted to write that people forget how awesome and incredible it feels to be able to move around freely, to walk and run and use your body as a mean of transportation. But in order to forget you need to know first. And not many people know.
But I do.
I know how it feels to get up with the sun and see it raise on the trails, to feel the morning breeze on my face and hear nothing but my footsteps on the grounds and songbirds or the cracks of the snow depending on the season. I know how it feels to run in the loneliness and darkness of the night, the path being lit up only by the moon and a headlamp. I know how the flowers and the branches of the trees feel against the tip of my fingers as I brush them with my hands, trotting past in peace. Conversely, I also know how it feels to push myself so hard that I can literally feel my heart against my chest and my lungs like they are about to explode. I know how it feels to be able to go running for one, two, three, four or five hours and be able to forget everything about the world for these one, two, three, four or five hours and feel like I’ve disappear to the other side of the world without needing to jump in a plane. I know how it feels to hit such highs that you literally feel like you could keep on running forever, to feel such a sense of peace and oneness with the universe that you feel like you have arrived somewhere, almost like you’re exploring a new level of consciousness. I also know how it feels to hit such horrible lows and moments of loneliness that you cannot conceive going on for one more second. But I also know to wait for that second wind, for it always comes and I have learned to love and cherish the lows as much if not more as I do the highs. I know how it feels to set your eyes on a goal that seems well beyond what you think you are capable of but still embark on the journey and give it your all, ready to embrace victories and failure alike.
I know how it feels to have the freedom to run. And as I am seating here writing this and wondering if I will ever be able to sign up for an ultra – or any race for that matter – again, I find myself missing this freedom more than I ever have. Eight weeks later, I am back to square one. I have had my share of injuries over the years, but the beyond eight weeks is a brand new thing. And it’s killing me. I have been swimming, cycling like I’m about to enter the Tour de France, going to the gym – I have been doing all of this and as much as it does make me happy too, there is just something to be said about running. And I’ve said all I could. Now go out and run.
Featured image credit: http://runners.fr/jai-pris-une-belle-grosse-claque/