While I’ve mentioned running on here a few times, for the most part it’s remained on the periphery in an effort to keep this blog art- focused and streamlined. Offline, however, running is anything but peripheral. Since high school, running has been part of my life. It’s what I do to keep sane. It’s where I write most of my blog posts and do my best thinking. It’s what I do to see what’s up in my neighborhood. It’s what my dad and I can connect on. Even as I type this my muscles are slowly recovering from the half-marathon I ran this past Sunday. In the same way that I don’t just ‘make art’ but am an artist, I don’t just run- I am a runner.
Identifying myself as such puts me in a club of similar weirdos who love the burn of lactic acid, who classify songs as good or bad based on how well their beat lines up with strides, who cheer for each other even while technically in competition. Just this weekend the Boyfriend and I were talking about how races, and especially long distance races, are the most friendly and positive sporting events- everyone wants everyone to do well.
And this is one of the reasons why, beyond the basic awfulness of it, the events in Boston this Monday left me reeling. Everyone grieves in their own way. For me, after the initial shock of a tragedy, I have to look for some sort of light, some sort of reason not to give up on humanity and become a total catladyhermit.
If you, like me, need some reassurance that we as a species are not all terrible, I advise you to check these out.
And as always, there’s hope where there’s a man in a cardigan:
Wear a running shirt. Keep lacing up those shoes. And most importantly, even if you don’t live anywhere near Boston, be a helper today.