on running.

I’ll never forget this Pearl Izumi ad campaign. I loved it because it was all about runners versus joggers, and how the two are intrinsically different.  The ads were simple, black background with white type, making bold proclamations like, “Runners sometimes jog, but joggers never run.” Or  “If you’re note sure if you’re a runner or a jogger, go faster.”

“Our ancestors never jogged down a meal.”

“Real runners don’t to escape the fact that they are running.”

This campaign was brilliant because it did what ads are supposed to do – make you feel like you belong somewhere because you have the thing they are advertising. 

I love running. It is my escape. Some people enjoy running because they can process thoughts, think about life. I enjoy running because , quite frankly, I don’t think about anything. I’ll never forget my junior year of high school when I found out my ex-boyfriend started to publicly pursue my friend. I saw it on AIM or something, and before you knew it, I was out the door, sprinting as hard as I could. I event remember what I wore – red soccer shorts and a white t-shirt. I remember just going, going, and then realizing when rationale had set in, that if I was going one way, I had to run back the other way to get home.

I don’t run before work often enough, but when I do, I love it. Especially in Santa Monica. Yesterday morning, I ran. The air had a chill to it, and I shivered as I took my first few steps, pressing the start button on my watch out of habit. I have a loop, and it’s pretty much the only route I run in Santa Monica.  I know if I’m running slow or fast based on which apartment buildings I pass at certain times, if I make it between blocks within the same street light sequence.

Yesterday morning, I was two blocks from home, and decided to walk. Now, I should preface this minor detail with the fact that I don’t like to walk. I have short legs, and a complex that says, “someone driving by you is going to see you walking and think that you’re a walker, not a runner.”

However, yesterday morning, I decided to walk home because in those first few slower steps, I felt the weather outside, I was awakened to what was going on around me, and was able to think and pray. I guess I always assume that because running is my physical release, it’s also my mental and emotional release. The way the thoughts came flowing , the way my soul and spirit felt alive and invigorated, was because I took the time to walk, to pay attention, to just invite those senses to be awakened.

Clearly, story of my life. Running and walking. Life-running to me is a Blackberrry wielding, weekly schedule maker, “I only have these nights to hang out” sayer. It gets me from point A to point B quicker, but I think I miss some things along the way. Life-walking to me is the unplanned, spur of the moment, the “let’s hang out because we both find ourselves with time to” kind of self. I love it, and it refreshes my soul, and I don’t walk often enough.