Fast Enough to Get There

Pound. Pound. Pound. Pound.

I never thought I’d run. You hear stories of magical transformations that occur when people do but I never thought I’d become one of them. I honestly like running. It was uncomfortable at first and sometimes painful, but no more. It’s not like I go crazy distances and I doubt I’ll run in any real races. But what I’ve achieved so far seemed completely impossible in the beginning.

Pound. Pound. Pound. Pound.

Music was essential. Yes, BigBang and BTS. Distract me with hot rhythms to follow and singers to imagine- ANYTHING to get me through the next 30 seconds. My mind came up with countless reasons to quit and tried repeatedly to convince my body to stop. It just KNEW trying was fruitless and I had to drown out that voice. The playlist I created grew bit by bit as my distance did.

Pound. Pound. Pound. Pound.

Music is still my key. I’m a natural denizen in my brain- I could live there spinning yarns forever without paying a whit of attention to my body if my body didn’t complain loudly of neglect. Music helps me balance body and mind. The messages told by the musicians’ manipulations of their bodies fuel me as I manipulate my own. Powerful notes can lead to powerful strides.

Pound. Pound. Pound. Pound.

Inclines and declines. The rhythm changes as I adjust to different conditions. Now, I’m no longer clinging desperately to time, distance or the tunes. I’m rolling with them all and anticipating what comes next with the movement of my whole body. My mind is now a bit freer. It can chew on some other things during the process as the miles tick by or just sit there and enjoy the view.

Pound. Pound. Pound. Pound.

I test my blood sugar before I run. I test it again afterwards. I have glucose tablets at the ready in case something goes wrong. Of course, I also have the requisite water bottle and towel. I’ve adjusted well to treadmill running over the winter but I’m definitely looking forward to my first real season of outdoor running, despite the encumbrances of being a T1D runner.

Pound. Pound. Pound. Pound.

A T1D runner. A runner. I just called myself a runner! I look in the mirror and see a body changed by the miles. The weights I’ve added have also started to hone it a bit more. Sometimes I want to chide myself about what I could have done had I started this years ago, but I stop that thought. It took a crazy-long journey to get me to this point. I am here now.

Pound. Pound. Pound. Pound.

We each have a trail we must take. Some are straight and clear. Others more winding and relaxed. Still others are so cloaked in mists of the unknown that it takes bravery, ignorance or blind faith to walk it. I have a hard time describing my own trail, but I know one thing for sure: it’s one fueled by a myriad of choices and opportunities, flavored by fate. And I am grateful for it.

Pound. Pound. Pound. Pound.

Life’s a journey we should never say never to.