Race for Independence
by Chelsie L. Shadrach
(Phoenix, AZ)
Have you ever noticed how uncharacteristic the Phoenix air is at 5:27 in the morning? It’s a time after the night sweats have faded, but before the blazing sun soaks into the light grey grooves of the city cement. When there is no reason not to smile to a happy tune, no matter how many times it’s already been played on repeat.
A time when the streets aren’t yet cluttered with angry drivers or ozone-polluting exhaust, and your lungs excite at the thought drinking up untainted sky. Welcome to the world through a runners’ eyes.
In my eight years of running, I have participated in many individual runs such as this, as well as numerous, overcrowded benefit runs for various causes. It seems that every organization, every person or team has a reason to run, a long-term desire or goal to attain. There’s always a cause to raise money for, a personal health condition to conquer, or some gambling man’s wager of physical strength against that of his friends.
I must admit that, running, though typically remarked upon as a “community of runners”, is mostly a terribly lonely sport. Even if you do find someone to match your fitness goals as a runner and plan workouts together, there is still the object left of individual motivation, dedication, and ambition.
I, myself, have always been surrounded by the “”Running for fun is stupid.” crowd; so naturally, my development as a runner has consisted of not only enduring countless miles, but also a copious amount of self-doubt.
Every time I approach a new starting line, I regress to my nervous 12 year old self on her first run. My abilities sink to an underdeveloped assortment of muscles and insecurities. My confident 20 year old self is lost as the starting gun shouts “GO!”, and I am as frightened as a puppy who has stumbled into the street at rush hour.
My feet pound in rhythm with my heart for the first 200 meters or so, as I realize I am being crushed by anxiety. In a harmonious and friendly awakening; my brain senses the overactive heartbeat, which tunes my ears into my breathing. I count myself to peace, “in…2…3…4… out…2….3…4…” and continue this until suddenly- I am 20 again, it’s today, my legs are stronger, my lungs more capable, my confidence is towering, and my internal dialogue changes- “I am going to kick this races ass!”
I feel the cool morning air, remember the happy tune and repeat it’s lyrics in my head. I breathe in the clean air. With this new and faithful mentality, breathing becomes easier, the finish line-closer; half the race is already won!
It is my thought that we each have our own fear of what may or may not kill us; studying every day to prepare for a big test, waking up an hour earlier, or running. I am a firm believer that, “What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.” To me, it’s as though runners for generations have shared this truth and used it as the motivation to keep them going each day.
Running has given me a unique view into my brain. The ability to see what mental durability can do first-hand has provided me with a stubborn and persistent dedication to achieve. No matter what that achievement may be, or how far the finish line is from me. Though one race may be better or worse than the last, I will reach the finish line, or I will die trying.
This is the mentality that my 20 year old self holds superior to myself at 12. From years of leaning on only myself to fulfill the lonely goals of a runner, I have evolved to supporting myself in all of my life’s aspirations, running or otherwise.
It is because of running that I have established myself as independent. Believing in my efforts to put myself through college, work full-time, be responsible for my best canine companion, and even venture on to Medical School. Because of the strength I’ve acquired from running, I refuse to be defined by what others believe me capable of, or my economic confines.
As long as I am a runner I am optimistic, cheerful, and stubborn-minded. I have learned that when things look impossible, like they may kill me first, that it just means it’s time to take a deep breath, jump up, and do it.
There are thousands of different races in the vast world of endurance running. Most of those races devote their race title to their cause: the Susan G. Komen “Race for the Cure” or Saucony’s “Run for Good”. Runs such as these usually contribute a portion of the registration fees towards helping that cause reach a particular goal.
An organization may present their goal as, finding a cure for a presently incurable disease, sending hygienic items to less-fortunate persons, or raising money for health establishments to encourage better physical health among a population. I consider my life as one big race, the “Run for Independence.” Every day that I run, I grow a little stronger, a little more proud, a little more confident in my ability to stand on my own two feet.
I believe that the “Run for Independence” has granted me access to my full potential as a person. Because of running I am a humanitarian, a teacher, a student, innocent, experienced, blissfully happy and academically overwhelmed all at once. I am able to experience life from a vantage point that is so often overlooked by others.
I am the luckiest person in the world to have such a solid outlet that pours back into me, and fills me with as much knowledge as I am willing to allow. What I’ve learned from running has provided me with a home, two jobs, and what will soon be a college degree, all things that I thought were impossible for me.
Every success in my life after moving from my parents’ home may be attributed in some form or another to my “Run for Independence”. So there’s only one more question to consider: What will you’re race be for, and are you willing to die trying for your finish line?
