Personal Narrative

Elissa Buchalter

WRTG 3020093-094 ASSIGNMENT #1

Francis Charteris

8/30/12

Blackness. The view I see when I gaze out of my window as the obnoxious jingle rings throughout my dark room.  Why am I awake? I ask this every single morning. Reluctantly I crawl out from underneath my warm blankets and stumble to the kitchen. Coffee and peanut butter. Ah, that’s why I am awake.  Not because I want to consume these items, but because I have to. Every. Single. Morning. Exactly two hours before the real reason why I am awake.

Crisp cool air flows over skin as my body speeds forward. Pebbles fly up in the air ever so slightly as the sound of gravel cuts the silence. Labored breathing shatters the stillness, breaks the loneliness.  Everything aches. The tension in my neck radiates down my spine, through my sacrum and ends in my big toe.  Hamstrings so tight I find myself asking if it’s possible for them to snap, like an overused rubber band. Thirsty. So incredibly thirsty. My hair matted to the back of my neck caused by the sweat cascading down my frame.  Why? I often find myself asking this question. Because I have to.

I lean slightly forward, lift my legs high, pump my arms. My limbs burn as if there is an electrical fire radiating throughout all my nerves.  Descending. Sweet relief until the force of going downhill sends waves of shock up through my arches all the way to the tips of my scapulae.  The small computer masquerading as a watch beeps at me from my wrist. Halfway there.

Bored. So incredibly bored. Hours on end spent alone. No amount of new music can quell the boredom. Thoughts start to wander. Constantly chasing “the zone” but often eluded. Always chasing. Why? Because I have to.

Skin now caked in a layer of dry salt and sunglasses smeared. My clothes now cling to my body like a second skin and rub against my ribcage and thighs. Blisters from my past resurface on my toes as I bound down the path.  The weight from the water belt significantly lighter than when I began. Still chasing… and now…  Lost. Not in the physical, but the mental. Lost in my thoughts, within myself. Time and space no longer exist, the pain is no longer real. A moving meditation. Thoughts and mind chatter go mute. Gliding. No, that’s not it. Flying? Yes. That’s what it is. I’m flying. The shrill beep shatters my reverie as if screaming at me to go faster. One foot in front of the other. Why? Because i have to.

How long ago was I in bed? Feeling as if an eternity has passed, I glance down at the computer enveloping my small wrist. Elated to  the screen projecting back at me that I am almost home.  Hill. Up again. Down. Left. Right. Swerve to miss the car. Left again. Round the bend and….Home.

The blackness begins to soften as pale yellow and pink hues lightly embrace the surroundings. The silence no longer like a heavy blanket as the cars begin to whiz by. Dogs and their owners emerge from their dwellings and children bounce playfully down the path towards the bus stop. My once swiftly moving feet slow. The forward force of my propelling body comes to a halt. The aching of my skeleton is overshadowed  by the joy. The relief. The sense of accomplishment.

I peel off the clothes that in a past life smelled of lilacs and linen.  Even after I remove my socks, it appears as if I am still wearing them due to the dirt caking my ankles and legs.  Bliss. That is the only word to describe my state of mind. 

How was your run? I’m greeted as i come downstairs

Running day after day, mile after mile. Is it an addiction? No. It’s an obsession. An obsession to move. To feel my body ache in ways many people will never experience. To see the incredible beauty we often take for granted. An obsession to push my body and mind to the edge.  People always ask me, why? And I always give them the same answer. Because I have to.