Running Away

My jog yesterday was my fastest yet: 2.03 miles in 22 minutes.  I can’t help but think that the reason I was so fast is because it was my way of running away from what’s going on right now.

There are things about which we all worry, but that we try to ignore.  It’s the way we humans cope with things that are out of our control.  We don’t have a say, necessarily, in whether we lose our jobs, have a bomb drop on our heads, or have a natural disaster hit our neighborhood.  These things happen, and rather than worry too much about them we prepare for “just in case.”  We stockpile emergency supplies in case of a disaster.  We save as much money as possible in case of a job loss.  We purchase insurance in case of something else.

But how do you deal with the reality when those worries come to fruition?  I know some people who keep it bottled up.  I know others who spend their time grieving or freaking out.  Others talk about it incessantly.  Still others flee.

I would love to be able to flee the reality I see sometimes.  Unfortunately, there’s a complete inability to leave reality behind – to leave responsibility behind.  I’m good at pretending I can run away, but I really can’t.

Such is life.  It’s the reason I haven’t moved far, far away as I’ve often longed to do.  It’s the reason I haven’t aggressively searched for a job outside of the Bay Area.  It’s the reason I get up every day, go to work, exercise, pay my bills and take care of my family.  I remind myself that running away is for cowards.  Adults – the true adults – keep going even when it’s hard.

So instead of running away, like I really wanted to do, I ran – literally.  I ran up into the hills surrounding my neighborhood, past the parks, around the corners and made my way back home.  I ran the fastest 2 miles I’ve ever run.  And although I didn’t actually run away, running was enough yesterday.

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