Way to Keep Sane #1: Running

Like I’ve said many a time, running keeps me sane.  I think because it has been a consistent form of release for me.  I started running when I was eleven, but I didn’t do it with any regularity until I was thirteen and I joined my high school’s indoor track team.  My older brother had just graduated the spring before as a local sprinting super star.  Of course, I had to do everything he did; I'd met the coaches before I was even in high school and I had been introduced as the next generation. I started off sprinting like my brother and made varsity very quickly. I flaunted my awesome blue and white letter jacket and varsity pins like a peacock. 

I liked sprinting but I really connected with the cross country/distance coach, his personality and his methods. I joined the cross country as a sophomore, ran top seven right away, and its been distance running ever since. 

Part of what I like about running is the challenge but also the high. Endorphins are real y’all.  And they are my drug of choice. I love the feeling when  I reach the point in a run and everything is smooth and fluid - my breathing, my stride, my form...My mind can wander, I can work out any issues I have and the physical thing I am doing, it just...is. 

I’m not obsessed with it the way I was in high school but I always feel better after running than I do sitting on my bum eating Quaker Toasted Oat Squares (yes, that’s what I am doing now).   Running is the best kind of self medication. Well, until you get a stress fracture but that’s why everything in moderation…

I feel lucky to have run all over the world from Havana to Yerevan, Amsterdam to Durban, London to the Bay.  Its my own special brand of “Pimpin’ Around the World.”  Clearly, its different in each city. Running down the road in Havana, I ran right by (and stopped to chat with) Olympian Ana Fidelia Quirot.  Running in Durban, I was mostly peeved because EVERYONE SAW MONKEYS ON THEIR RUNS BUT ME.  I digress.  

Lately, I've been noticing the difference between the two cities I have lived in most recently: Portland, OR and Washington DC. 

I have prepared a chart to explain:

City	Portland, OR	Washington DC
Common Routes	Springwater Corridor, Oaks Bottom Wildlife Refuge, Forest Park and the streets of SE Portland	Streets of NW, Georgetown, The Hill; streets of Silver Spring, MD when I first arrived
The Scenery	A beautifully painted wildlife building, evergreens, the Willamette River, Sellwood Bridge, perfectly tended gardens, wetlands, dense gorgeous forest	Row houses, gas stations, McMillan Reservoir, Howard University, Washington Monument, The Hill
The Terrain	Asphalt, trails, gravel	Concrete. Ugh, my shins.
The Wildlife	Osprey, eagles, deer, the occasional skunk, garter snakes that I happily removed from the path with a stick, one turkey vulture, one daytime raccoon (I doubled back and picked up a rock with which to beam him but he hightailed out of there)	Black Squirrels! (These are still very exciting for me), small mice, a rat the size of my shoe, the sight of which caused me to squeak like a stereotypical girl when it ran across my path
The Spectators	Homeless people, Hipsters, Hippies that come out of the woods to cheer for you and then give you a tasty orange for post run consumption, practicing roller derby teams, Bikers who see you so often they learn your name	Homeless people, people who don’t know how to move the hell out of the way, roaming bands of Bieber cute multicultural boys in skinny jeans on skateboards and bikes
Fellow Runners	Chill.	Clueless.  Why in the world are you running 1) in black 2) at night 3) with your i-pod on?
Holla Holla Holla	Minimal.  Occasional double takes from guys on bikes. A hoot or two from dudes in a pick up truck.	Fair (DC) to Severe (MD). Listen, I don’t know if there are women out there who respond to the advances of men yelling at them out of cars while they run.  I hope not.  The sexual harassment put me on edge when I first arrived, especially when a guy followed me on a run in Silver Spring.  Thankfully DC hollerers seem to limit themselves to brief compliments and horn honking.
Smells like….	Teen Spirit (a mix of trees, dirt, skunk, water, beer, sticky icky and deep fried pickles)	Food smells
Bike Etiquette Grade	B+.  Points taken off for all of the ridiculously fancy Spandex and the few overzealous bikers who do not pay attention to where they are going.	C-.  Sidewalks are not for bikes. I should not have to press myself against a massive stone lion so that you avoid running me over on a bridge.