It has taken greater amount of
persuasion to stake my claim to the title of this post – I Run.
I find the title collective and cohesive.
Some might find it coy and coercive. Yet I would stick to it; irrespective of
the opinions someone might develop about me.
Coming back to the title and the
activity that I associate with, I run. But I don’t run to fulfill a need or a
condition, I run to address the stubbornness of immobility, I’ve had developed
a habit of occasionally succumbing to. I had a fair idea that I will have to let
go that habit someday. Having said that, I knew it was not going to be that easy
like it seemed to be as the first and last impression. If I am asked about the
last best memory of running, it would be the span of three months between
October and December of 2014.
Between October and December
2014, I woke up every day to the enthusiastic idea of I RUN EVERY DAY. The idea
was infectious. The idea kept my mind and muscles constantly sterilized. The
idea was so strong in its form and practice, I heeded to the alarm clock at
5:30 AM every morning, irrespective of the time I might have made it to the
bed. But 2015 left the idea weakened. The fitness schedule I had been boasting
about and the physique I had developed fueled the erratic imagination of brashness
in me. Few months down the line, I migrated to a city and the first ever habit I
happened to meet with was BEING LAZY. Habits changed, hobbies changed; thoughts
overlapped and somewhere in between I lost the interest in running.
Battle lines were drawn, swords
were pulled out but I refused to run. There was no horsepower left in my feet
to run. Days passed, months diminished and I rolled back to the city I have
called home. Perceptions around me had changed. I had become arrogant but, the
paunch had exceeded every limit of being a spoilt brat, which kept feeding on
the fact that someday I might run. This someday overpowered every imagination,
bullied my enthusiasm and I became a slave of lethargy.
But procrastination is a short
lived hobby. The absence of passion in this hobby finally made it wear out. My
progress continued being slow. Another year passed and I allowed myself to
continue being snobbish. The first sunrise of 2017 had me looking at myself in
the mirror. Day in, day out, I was sure of not being me. A pair of sports
shoes, a pair of jogging t-shirts, color matched socks and shorts; everything
seemed insignificant and at the same time seemed to be in waiting for me to
begin. By the mid of January 2017, I knew I had to make it sure that I RUN.
February 2017 made its debut. I
sought advice from a friend, who was already passionate about running. I knew
there was no more time to waste and I had to wake up the next morning to ensure
that I RUN. Besides running, I adapted myself to a diet plan (much unheard of
me, but still). This diet plan was my introduction to a new kind of stubbornness.
I had to wake up to the idea of growing fit again. And thus came the cold
morning of a fading urban winter. I was on the ground, standing right in the
middle; stretching my muscles and flexing my feet to put myself to test again
and to write a post with a title as apt as I RUN.
To be continued…
-Virtuous Vociferous
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