[ad_1]
This fall, two relay teams of four Daily Arts staffers will train for and run the Probility Ann Arbor Marathon. But as writers, we can’t just run the race — we have to write about our past experiences with running, how we are preparing for the marathon, what we look forward to and what we are afraid of.
I run by myself. That’s what I’ve told my doctor every year since I was 14 when she asks me what I do for physical activity.
“I run.”
“Are you on the team at school?”
“No. I run by myself.”
I almost always have.
I ran track in middle school. With long legs and an all-state older brother whose bedroom wall still carries medals of all sizes and colors (mostly gold), I thought: It’s in my blood, right? By that logic, my brother is a tap-dancing mezzo and a TV writer. But you’re allowed to be stupid when you’re 12. Realizing that a five-minute mile time was not in my blood and that my brother was, actually, abnormally talented, I quit the track team after one season.
But when high school rolled around, I was exhausted from that paradoxical stress that gives you more energy. And I turned to the one thing that could save me in moments of distress: my treadmill. To this day, if I’m stressed, angry or anxious, I turn to a treadmill.
When I tell people I run “for fun,” they often look at me like I’m crazy. But I think this is where the wires get crossed. Moving my legs back and forth as I become more and more out of breath is not a hobby of mine. My love for running isn’t physical. Granted, I do need the exercise or I’ll quickly become an unwalked golden retriever and pace around my room until I use up my energy. But that’s beside the point. Running, for me, is mental.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I don’t like running. I enjoy letting my mind roam while listening to my favorite music on an exercise-induced serotonin boost. I don’t know if I like racing: I’m terrified that my body will give out mid-leg and I’ll realize I’ve bitten off more than I can chew. But even if I don’t like racing, I bet I’ll like saying I’ve done it. Running still feels like it’s just for me — it’s my time to process, to imagine and to unpack. Since my wimpy middle school days, I have never run on a team. But the idea that people need me to show up is the only thing motivating me to get up, despite my totally booked Google Calendar, and run.
Sometimes people will ask me to go to the gym together, and I react the same way I do when someone asks me to go to a listening party for a new album: make something up, politely decline and do it alone. There are some things I need to experience by myself. Exercise and lyric decoding have always been two of them. I’m a little scared to have people relying on me, and I’m not feeling reliable yet. But I hope in the coming weeks, with more training, that will change.
I only realized about a week ago that I should be training for this thing. My former all-star brother has since written me a pre-race schedule and given me some tips, so I feel like I’m in one of those sports movies where a slightly hopeless cause gets a new coach and things get back on track. Except my coach has to help me, or I’ll tell on him. But whatever works.
I’m pretty nervous about this if I’m being honest. But if the Arts writers before me can do it, so can I. I have a team — for the first time, I’ll be running by myself, but I won’t be running alone.
TV Beat Editor Olivia Tarling can be reached at tarling@umich.edu.
Related articles
[ad_2]
Source link