Repost: there is no finish line

I'm editing/reposting this post (my favorite post) which will be my submission to "Humanitas" - MUSC's annual Art and Literature publication.  There's a cash prize, so if I win all proceedings will go towards my search for the finish line.

See you on the other side,

from ken

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there is no finish line

I’ve been running for longer than I can remember doing anything else in my life. 

I ran cross country and track in college and high school.  I was elected captain, not because I ran fast but because I cared.  I spent one summer running 1000 miles, putting in week after week of ninety miles, just to prove to myself that if I was going to be a nothing at running, it wasn’t because I didn’t try.  At one time in my life, I owned more track spikes than my girlfriend owned shoes.  I once ran a hundred mile week, finishing the last run with a Turkish soccer player who could barely speak English and had never ran more than four miles, but as we finished the seven mile run he was sprinting and yelling, “NEVER GIVE UP, NEVER GIVE UP.” 

But over the past few months, I’ve come to see running as a relic of my past. 

a great season

After that 1000 mile summer, I had the best running season of my life.  For those few months, I was a far greater athlete than I ever imagined I could be.

At the end of that season, I ended up as the alternate on our regionals squad.  The alternate travels with the team and hangs out as everyone else broods over the race before them.  It feels helpless because there’s nothing you can do, except supporting your teammates. 

It was at this point that I realized, this is the final lesson running has to teach me.  My role in this life is to be a cheerleader.  My contribution to the world was not going to be about my race, but rather my teammates’ races. 

After that season, my running was never the same.  I lost the heart for it, but I still ran to support my friends and teammates, I wanted to see them succeed more than they could’ve ever imagined.

In the cult classic running novel Once A Runner the protagonist refers to demons that haunt his running.  I remember feeling these demons in my own life.

just another day in the life

The demons would come on in those few minutes just before a race, when you’re waiting on the track, having stripped off your warmups, spikes on, your race is about to start, and feeling like you have to pee for the fifth time in the last fifteen minutes.  I remember telling my friend, if I ever stopped feeling like this, I would stop running.

Perhaps the demons in your life are where your heart is.  And wherever your heart is, that’s where your life should be.

Well, the demons in my life don’t haunt my running anymore, and I have left behind the life of a runner. 

For those of you still running, I really really wish you the best of luck.  There is nothing else like it. 

And of course, to my old teammates, those of you from Kenyon and those from Needham, I hope to enjoy a leisurely run with you again some day.  Or maybe just a leisurely beer.