As a child growing up there was little money, consistent hunger, and no toys but those acquired during dumpster dives. But there was running; it was free; it did not care that I had no money; that I did not speak English; that I came from an abusive home; it was the one and only true constancy in my life. Growing up in an abusive home ingrained the need for running away. So I did. Running was survival; sanity; safety. And as I grew older, there it still remained. I never joined sports in my middle school or high school years; my passion for running had been personal and private given my childhood history. And when I hit rock bottom and suicide seemed the only solution, the very second before I ended it all, I decided to go for a run instead. Running has saved me; molded me; grounded me; broken me down only to build me back up again; humbled me; kept me human. And it is a beyond beautiful blessing to know that there are fellow runners out there who too live the lives of runners. There is nothing like it; nothing.
Posted on: Thu, 28 Aug 2014 03:58:35 +0000
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