Do you love to run? I do. A commonplace journal isn’t just a place to record quotes that convey deep meaningful messages, but also those that are simply fun and special to you. I went through my two journals to find all the quotes I'd picked up over the years that involved running. There were a few that I had forgotten about and brought a smile to my face. On top of that I brought out an old short story I wrote. Both I want to share. Perhaps this post could have been called 'A Celebration Of Running'!
I love running
Now I am dreadfully slow, probably even by a girl's standards. I have very little athleticism or speed, but running is still so much fun to me! I love going on long jogs, short hard sprints and competing in games that involve running. I can't help but run indoors when I’m in a rush (or even when I’m not in a rush). It is incredibly undignified, but really, it's faster... Running is a blessing and I try not to take it for granted.
“You have been running, Jo; how could you? When will you stop such romping ways?” Said Meg, reprovingly, as she settled her cuffs and smoothed her hair, with which the wind had taken liberties.
“Never till I’m stiff and old, and have to use a crutch.”
- Louisa May Alcott, Little Women
Jo March from Little Women here and I quite agree.... Haha but here are the rest. All of these resonated with me and all are from beloved books and are about beloved characters.
"Her legs burned. They were slow, full of acid and sludge, and her lungs wanted to rip wide open. Every part of her wanted to stop, except her will. Her will wanted a different body. One with wings."
-N.D. Wilson from Dandelion Fire
“I think the question is why you were running instead of walking.”
“Why not? It’s faster. Now I’m here with you boys instead of trudging along the empty hallway, and it’s much better isn’t it?”
-Trenton Lee Stewart from The Mysterious Benedict Society
She was headed downhill, and the speeds she reached were exhilarating. She was, in a strange way, almost happy. She had forgotten what wild joy filled her when she ran, how alive she felt. She powered on. - S.D. Smith from The Green Ember
Cyrus had switched off time. It didn’t matter how long he’d been going. It didn’t matter how much longer he must go. There was only now-only these steps, and these, and these, and these, and no other.
-N.D. Wilson from The Drowned Vault.
A memory captured
This is a run I wrote into a short story. A small memory captured. It's a little silly at parts, but I'm still rather fond of it.
Enjoy!
Running
“A cool wind brushes my arms and legs, while raindrops gently tap my face. My feet beat out a steady splashing rhythm on the wet sidewalk and my heavy breathing sings along. I look around. Everything is green and fresh and alive. The trees seem to be dancing in the wind and the flowers to be exalting in their own brilliant color. Water runs in little rivulets along the sidewalk. It is cold and wet outside, but in my sweater, I am warm and snug.
Two elementary kids round the corner in front of me on bikes. It is three - time for them to get out of school. For a moment I feel sorry for them, having to ride home on a rainy day like this. Then I smile at myself. After all, I am out here of my own accord and they didn't seem to mind the rain at all.
I turn a corner, knowing I am almost home. But it is so lovely out and I don't feel tired yet. My limbs are not yet sore. I know I can go further. So instead of turning down my street to go home, I cross past it and continue on. I choose to turn left, going out to another section of my neighborhood. Up ahead I see some more elementary kids. Some walking, some on bikes, and most of them girls. As I run past them a little round-faced girl on a pink bike (who I think I recognize as one of the girls my little sister sometimes plays with) looks up and on seeing my burnt orange sweater exclaims, ''Oh! I like the Texas longhorns too!'' A warm bubbly feeling of pleasure and amusement swells up inside me at these words. But alas, I have only time to smile, laugh, and gasp out, ''Oh good!'' before I'm past her and continuing down the road.
I come to the end of the street and cross the road to the right. Across the street to the left of me a long field runs down to trees that shelter a creek. The wind picks up, whipping my hair and howling in my ears; trying in vain to tear the warmth from my exertion heated body. Cars occasionally whoosh past on my left. I raise my head to face the wind and pick up my speed. The sky is a broil of gray and the raindrops rush down toward me. I just barely resist the childish urge to spread my arms and pretend to fly. I inwardly laugh at myself. I need to act at least somewhat dignified. The neighbors probably already think I'm crazy enough. But it's still tempting, with the wind and the rain and the sky seeming so big and close.
I slow back to a jog and swerve round down another row of houses. After letting myself run like that I feel almost spent. My legs start to feel stiff and ache, my whole body is tired, but I can’t stop now. I want to keep sprinting and skip and fly, but my sore, weary body will not and my legs seem to bind me to the ground. I am heading back to my street now. I am ready to go home.
Up the street I trod, plodding slowly along. My head down and my gaze fixed on the ground. I make it down one row of houses and then go down another street a way, and turn again. My only focus is to keep running and not stop. Up ahead the final turn is in view. I’m so tired I can’t imagine going faster, but I know I can. When I turn that corner, it must be full speed and nothing less.
Suddenly I am there. As I turn, I force my head up from the sidewalk and glare straight ahead, affixing my sights on a large white van. Making myself forget how tired I am I break into a sprint. My breath comes short and quick. My weary legs and body protest, but I ignore them and push myself harder. No slowing, only faster. A fierce joy fills me as I grit my teeth and run with everything I've got. Fighting to go harder to propel myself forward faster.
Then before I know it, I am turning around the van and bounding up the driveway, then I am onto the porch. I open the door and slip inside, closing it behind me. And all of a sudden, I am still.
My heart pounds in my chest, my pulse thrums in my ears and my breathing is heavy and hard. Inside is uncomfortably warm and stuffy after the cool air outside. My face is slick with a mixture of rain and sweat and my clothes feel damp. The smell of dinner assaults my nose.
I smile. I had made it and it had been absolutely glorious”