frühjahrsmüdigkeit

Every year as the weather alternates between Spring and Winter, warms up, cools down and just generally fucks with us from January to June I get this condition. Spring tiredness. Spring sadness. A complete and utter German existential crisis. As I sit here now, desperately hoping that my 4-o'clock espresso will successfully replace the nap I so wish I could take, I can't help but think that my sensitivity to the change in seasons is getting more pronounced the older I get. Or, maybe I'm just plain-old-English tired.

why do you run?

People ask this. Often. I bring the question on by being completely annoying about my running; by saying things like, "No, I can't drink tonight. I have a big run tomorrow." Or, by basically suffixing anything I say with, "I have to run tomorrow." So, it stands to reason that people would eventually ask the question, "Why do you run?"

For a long time I have wondered how to answer this question. There are so many reasons, and it seems sometimes, a different answer for each day of the week. Sometimes I try to gauge my audience; to some I say with a serious face, 'for fitness', to others I laugh it off and say, “because I’m addicted” Once, after expounding the virtues of the Sunday long run to a friend and being met with the response, "well, that just reeks of effort", I learned that not everyone wants the real answer to the question, “why do I run?”

But here, this is the real truth; the stark unedited answer to the question. I run for my life. I run because when I don’t I feel wrong. I run because it transports me into each moment to exist only in that moment with no sense of past or present. I run because it is my constant metaphor for how I wish to live: to continuously strive forward, to act with intent, to immerse myself in every moment and not worry about what is to come or what is past, to accept when it feels hard and to rejoice when it feels easy and to understand pain and disappointment yet never be deterred.

I run because I can. I run because my body lets me. Because my body insists on it. I run because it teaches me to live every day with respect, humility, grace, gratitude and love. I run because it connects me to my humanity, to my animal self and to the earth and humbles me to the point where I can accept my utter insignificance and simply enjoy my time as a tiny speck in the universe. I run because it brings me closer to my joys and sorrows and because it helps me to feel alive and free. I run because I'm a runner. It's what I do.

There is no feeling that I like better than cruising through the forest, or over mountains, or beside rivers on my own two feet – both lost and found at the same time.