on monday i went to dick’s sporting goods house of sport with the adrenaline of wanting to start a new hobby: RUNNING. from the person who, on her last run years ago, ran on day one of my period, an empty stomach, dehydrated as hell, in the humid mid-80s, and near-fainting from dehydration, this is more than an overcoming of internal fear. this is a decision made with the joy of trying something new. the thought of being able to do more things for myself, to reward myself more time away from screens and in my own thoughts. to process what will or has already happened in the day.
of course, L’s enthusiasm was more than enough to push me over the fence and commit to buying running shoes immediately after work. so, i walked into dick’s, and met R. i admitted to being a total beginner, and R knew the assignment. R pointed out a few options, and i was feeling pretty good, but not about the $149.99 price tag. so of course i asked if there were more affordable pairs. when R checked the inventory, i had no idea what kind of sign from the universe i was going to experience. R pulled out the “good news, and bad news"; a $12.50 pair of new balance fuelcell’s, white and highlighter yellow, slightly used. both my worst nightmare and the most unbelievable dream.
i went on my first run wednesday at 6am. coach bennett in my ear was just the encouragement i needed. a loop around fenway, up and down sidewalks i was excited to get to know well, crosswalks i was frustratingly stalled at, morning air i adore so much.
today, i write sitting on the steps in capital one cafe, an oasis in the steamy 89 degree sun. i walked into the cafe after emerging from the green line, sticky and sweaty as all hell, overstimulated from wearing jeans on a day suited for shorts. i hear someone say my name, the "?!” audible. it’s R, he works here too — we catch up. and more than that, he says my drink is on him.
when i say i’m in love with life, i mean the part where i’m not able to fight with being recognized in my worst state, baby hairs sticking to my forehead like i’m hyperhydrotic. not being able to discount where kindness gets you, how far 5 star google reviews can reward you with saints left and right. to R, to L, to the police officer who let us go without a fine when i was just trying to make L’s senior recital, to the stranger who catcalled about my backpack being wide open; karma is more than real. it’s gentle and ruthless. check me running later tonight.
