Playing Outside
It’s not everyday that I look so forward to an afternoon snack, but today was one of those days. With cool, 40-degree temps and a sunny calm afternoon, conditions were perfect for feasting. Feasting on some serious 02, that is. With a brand new pair of running shoes, it may as well have been Christmas morning, and I, Ralphie, with my new Red Ryder BB gun. “Don’t shoot your eye out!”, my mom would say. Except today, the stars were aligned for a glorious run. If Karma has anything to do with the day’s conditions, I must have been a much better person in a previous life.
So, sporting my new kicks, and with a childish grin on my face, I take off from my car, seeming to flee from the day’s worries. As my legs turned over faster and faster, my lungs willingly and rapidly accepted the late winter air. A mile and a half in, I pass a teenage playground – the neighborhood skate park. Any other day my head would be filled with parental criticism for the absence of helmets. Today, though, I’m content with the fact that, helmets or no helmets, these kids are enjoying the outdoors in a way that’s impossible to mimic on the couch (even with a Wii).
My pace increases. Even with below average temps on an early March afternoon, new signs of life hint at an approaching Spring. Birds chirp, fair-weather runners emerge, and a few more walkers are unleashing their dogs. In some ways I’m driven by a need to forget. I’ve found that a career in education inevitably brings stresses and concerns that reach deep into the soul. In the business world much of my stress seemed to be widespread and shallow, with concerns of office politics and saving face. In education, stress runs deep as I reach out to empower students and motivate them to realize their true potential.
This comes with a price, however, and relieving this stress takes a much more concerted effort. This is why I run harder. If even for a moment I can run so hard, so as to focus entirely on my physical effort, then my mind can rejuvenate and be more prepared to tackle the next day’s challenges. Today, I’m successful. Tomorrow, I may not be, but that’s okay. Though we gain momentum through successes, we learn only from failures.
Back at home, barefoot and logging my mileage, I catch the faint smell of new shoes. Briefly I’m reminded that it’s only through hard work that something unfamiliar eventually becomes a part of us. For soon the smell of new shoes will be gone, and the bright white will fade with the elements – a signature end to the “honeymoon” stage. However, we all know that greatest rewards are the ones that lie deep below the surface, long after the honeymoon has passed.