Fight or Flight

2007 was the Year of Running in my life and after a solid year of really running, I have since retired. I was thinking about 2008 being the Year of Swimming but it is July and I have yet to step into a pool. I blame this partly on attempting to find a suit suitable for athletic swimming sometime back in February, which for some of us in Michigan is also known as the season of pasty white skin. I rediscovered that there might not be anything that makes me feel as aesexual as a Speedo in the middle of winter, and decided that the Year of Swimming might need to be put on hold.

I have been thinking about the Year of Running for a few reasons lately. One, it was about exactly a year ago that I participated in my first major race (for all my friends who run, you may either choose to suspend your concept of a "major" race or stop reading this post). My friends Will and Lauren and I decided to run in a Bastille Day run in Chicago. And so we, along with our chauffeur/cheerleader/tour guide/booking agent (my father...who earned the nickname Cubby Bear that weekend), headed to Chicago for a fun weekend. The race was just my style: a 5k where the finish line takes you right into a block party complete with live music, beer, and people handing out free Dove chocolate. It was great.

At the block party...

Cubby Bear with the Dove chocolate women...

Another reason I have been thinking about running lately is because there have been multiple times in the past couple of weeks where I have wanted to run. Not in the sense of putting on shoes and heading out the door (unlike many athletes these days, when I say I retired, I meant it) but more in the sense of not wanting to deal with my life. In the course of the week I found myself looking for flights to Colorado, Minneapolis, Virginia, Georgia, San Francisco and even South Dakota. Anywhere--I was ready to go and be anywhere--but here. And I started thinking about that Psych 101 phenomenon of "fight or flight." And I knew that hopping on a plane wasn't really a solution but more of an escape and so I didn't buy a ticket.

Sometimes I think it is okay to opt for the escape. I have done so in some respects in the past couple of weeks, mostly in the form of hopping in the car and heading out to the beach as we are now in the season in Michigan that is known as "ahhh yes, there are some reasons I am thankful I live here." But there are other times where you just have to deal with it even thought it isn't always pleasant or comfortable. But as a wise person once told me: at times, the only way out is through. So just as I retired my running shoes, for the time being I am going to retire my thoughts of running away. And, who knows, maybe one of these days I'll actually get that Speedo.