Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Like running on the beach

I adore the beach. I was born by the beach. I always turn to the beach (when I can) for that sense of well-being and peace that is hard to find in the city.

I also adore the idea of running on the beach. The movies make it look so easy! The light is amazing (no matter what time of day is being portrayed) and the girl or guy just saunters along the sand, in shoes or barefoot, looking super relaxed and stress-free, clothes billowing, hair blowing... yeah, it is not that easy. It's really hard and really... disappointing. My fantasy of waltzing along the beach, burning calories and looking fabulous, is, well, a fantasy.

The reality, for me at least, is pounding the city streets, dodging cars, stalling at red lights, sweat streaming, inhaling untold quantities of smog, gasping for those last few hundred meters...

I like running in the city. I really do. I like watching people as I run. I like seeing visible progress in the number of blocks I pass. I even like the sweat, the tangible proof of exertion. It's not always easy to convince myself to strap on the shoes and turn on the tunes and get going, but once I do, it's hard to imagine why it was necessary to convince myself.

Normally, I could turn all this into a huge object lesson, but just this once I'm gonna... not. Someday maybe I'll be able to run on the beach... and someday beyond that I'll be able to make it look easy... or not. Meanwhile, it's time to grab my shoes and my iPod and hit the streets.