Breathe in Breath out | Teen Ink

Breathe in Breath out

December 9, 2012
By Anonymous

Breathe

Breathe in; breathe out. I concentrate on timing my breaths with my footsteps, as I desperately try to distract myself from the fact that I feel like I’m going to pass out. Breathe in; breathe out. My heart is hammering away, and my stomach is cramping so much that I feel like I could puke. My calf muscles strain to push my body up the steep incline, as my hamstrings have turned into jello. Only one more mile, I think, driving myself forward. Sweat is accumulating on my shirt and shorts--basically everywhere. It makes me look like I have just recently been swimming. My face, I’m sure, is brighter than the tomatoes that grow in my mother’s garden. I must finish.
I had always hated running. In grade school when we would have to run a mile to see if we were “physically capable,” I wanted to vomit it made me so nervouss. I didn’t want anyone to make fun of me if I could not run fast enough. At field hockey and volleyball practices, I dreaded the sprints, praying I would not be the poor soul who came in last and had to run again. So, when I tried out for Assumption’s field hockey team and did not make it, I surprised myself by going out for the cross country team. I obviously was not thinking clearly. Why had I decided to join the cross country team? I was a terrible runner. In fact, people would make fun of my hands-up-in-front, all-girly-like run. Plus, if I could not even run a mile, how could I possible run three?
I considered quitting, but I didn’t. The real reason for my joining the team was to meet new people. And, I did meet new people. I met girls who were entertaining and fun to hang out with. I actually started to enjoy going to practices, but not for the running. Instead of running to train for races, my new friends and I spent the whole season learning how to run away from the coaches so that we could then stop and walk. I’m not saying we didn’t run at all; for instance, the whole week before a big race I would train hard because I was scared of coming in last. I would also make an effort on the days when I had eaten one too many cookies in homeroom. Without realizing, I really had begun to enjoy running, even if it was just for the social part.
The cross country season went through October and ended right before it got too cold to run in shorts. After the season was over, I missed seeing my friends every day after school, and I had also grown to love our coach, Barry. The weirdest thing of all was that I actually missed running, too. Running made me feel good about myself when I completed a two- or three-mile run. I know that is not a lot for people who are real runners, but I liked the feeling of accomplishment. So, started running on my own. This time I did not run away from anyone. I would just run until I was tired and then go home. I got into the habit of running everyday, even if it was for just fifteen minutes. But as I ran each day my endurance increased, and I could feel myself getting stronger. Now I run trails that I know better than my own reflection. I run past houses, golfers, animals, and creeks. I run through rough and smooth terrain. I run to my next class. I run to lunch. I run. I run. I run. And, as I run, I feel happy. I feel my powerful legs in motion, I feel the oxygen pumping into my blood, and I feel my energy building up inside me waiting to burst free.
When I run, my mind is free to drift off to my happy place. It sorts through my daily tasks, while tidying up and categorizing my homework. Running helps me clear my mind of stress. When I run it is just me and the road, and no one else. It is peaceful. Running makes me concentrate on forcing my legs to keep moving instead of how much homework or how many tests I have. I am free of the nagging voices asking something of me. I am completely alone and that is the way I like it to be.
I do not consider myself a great runner, and I do not compare myself to the girls on the cross country team that look like they do not know what junk food is, but I do call myself a runner. I run every day because it makes me feel like I am pretty, thin, calm, or whatever I need to feel that day. It is my alone time, my clear my mind time. I breathe in and out, and in and out, losing my anxiety about tests and essays and deadlines and dances. I quicken my pace, knowing the trail will soon be at an end. And when I finish, I breathe in and out.



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