12:26 a.m. - Friday, Jul. 06, 2012
Running
I run for the ten minutes of intense pleasure I get after the run is over. I do a five-mile loop through the neighborhood. Past the church. Down Main Street - along the rows of Columbian bakeries and Portuguese restaurants. Up the hill to the Catholic school . . .reminding me of the life I left behind me. A hundred miles away. I charge up the 70 foot climb and inhale the sweet smell of melting milk chocolate. Safely removed from the temptation of that which I no longer require. And for a sweeter reward, I sprint the last several yards. Elevating my heart rate and breathing more heavily.
This is a practice in leaving the body. I feel entitled to it.
I used to avert my eyes even walking toward my own car to avoid catching my reflection in the window. It hurt to be around people because of the heightened awareness I felt in my body. It hurt so much that I initially dropped out of college, was fired from my customer service job when I could no longer be around people, and spent several months isolated in an apartment I moved into many hours from anyone I used to know - leaving only to work an overnight shift at a bakery. Just me and the hot ovens and the baking bread . . .arriving after everyone else was gone for the night and leaving before the sun came up. Satisfaction in burning flesh.
I wish I had the words to express the transformative power of the 60-day fast. I wanted to leave my body so badly, I would have died to achieve that goal. And when the fast was over, that part of me WAS dead. She DID die. And I felt everything. I felt the life in the food I ate. I felt the strength in my body. I felt the pleasure - and still the pain - of being with people. I started to feel happiness, sadness, excitement - in its entirety. I used to only feel anger.
Running is a practice in leaving the body. It's one of the last places into which I disappear. Sometimes I'm so far away, I come back to earth and don't realize how far I've run or where I am along the route. Those are the most blissful runs.
And then I return to the body. And revel in the sensation of five miles of feet against pavement. I love the contracting muscles in my calves. And I can feel the risidual pulsing of blood in my veins. I feel the rush of oxygen down my throat and into my lungs. And the sweat dripping down the sides of my face. I love the heat rising from my cheeks. And my heart. My beautiful, strong, healthy heart. Enduring. As it always has.
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