I was watching Jack Reacher on Netflix yesterday and noticed how Tom Cruise running. I know he does this on quite a lot of his films, and whenever Tom Cruise runs, I wish I could run that way too. Makes me think – when was the last time I’ve ran like there was mo tomorrow?
In this last decade there were a few years I used to run. I would excitedly mark fun runs in my calendar, queue at the marathon sign up booths to get my shirt and race bib, and wake up before sunrise to conquer the miles. I did it mostly for fun and for the cause. And by fun I meant 5 kilometers. That’s it. I stopped when I had an ankle injury and recognized I’ve not been running the right way so I was putting unhealthy strain on the wrong parts of my feet.
But what I miss most is the way I felt when I ran as a child. When I thought my lungs and the sides of my tummy would burst because I gave it my all. When I played tag or hide and seek with my friends. Or when I raced the street with my brother or cousins. When the neighbor’s dogs would chase us and we raced all the way back home. When I pretended I was a superhero and ran off to rescue an imaginary person in distress. I had my share of scratches and scars along the way, but I ran wildly each time like the world depended on it.
I wish I can run that way again.