When I was a kid, I wasn’t much of an athlete. I didn’t participate in any team sports, nor did I really pursue any kind of athletic goals. I took ballet lessons at five year old, but my mom said I had to stop going because she didn't think I took it seriously enough. I was FIVE. Not sure what she expected, but I obviously wasn't fulfilling those expectations.
Then I took ice-skating lessons along with my older sister for a couple years. But the appeal of emulating Dorothy Hamill wore off after a while, and my sister and I both decided to stop ice skating - I think the frozen toes and wet tights got the best of us.
After that, I didn't pursue any other physical sport or hobby in my youth. It seemed piano lessons were next in my future, primarily because we had a piano and I possessed the perfect long fingers to play it.
If I had to think back on why I didn't join any team or competitive sport as a kid, I would venture to guess that it was a combination of being shy, insecure and not a risk-taker. The fact that I lived on seven acres of open land, that is, at least until I was eleven years old, may have also played a part. My daily existence at home after school and on weekends was one of carefree play… of running around open grassy fields and orange groves… of lying on the lawn and daydreaming while gazing up at the clear blue sky and the tops of olive trees. I have to figure the child version of me just didn't yearn for structured activity elsewhere when I was able to climb our huge fig tree whenever I wanted.
When I was in junior high (which in the 80's was seventh through ninth grade), I got straight A's on most report cards; but if I didn't, it was because I had gotten a B in Physical Education (P.E.) or Typing. It's not like I was awkward or uncoordinated in any way - I just didn't really like to participate, and I think my outlook reflected that in a less than enthusiastic way, enough so that my P.E. teacher reflected his reaction to my poor attitude in my grade. Playing games or moving my body in any disciplined way just wasn't my cup of tea… It would seem that my fooling around in ballet at five was a precursor to this attitude and behavior.
I remember dreading running laps around the school track, especially on those really hot days in the San Fernando Valley. I was so skinny and not particularly a tough girl, nor was I really thick-skinned or resilient in the face of adversity; so nobody, including myself, ever saw me as the athletic type, or one to even try to excel at anything that required me to move, exert, challenge, rival, or sweat; and especially not in a cooperative, official team-like setting. I remember I did try out for cheerleading in the eighth grade… I didn't make the team, as my lack of athletic prowess and overall shyness were most assuredly my doom.
Instead, I was a big fan of sitting around watching sitcoms on TV and movies on VHS tapes. I remember going home after school many days and grabbing a whole sleeve of Girl Scout Thin Mints, and sitting on my couch to watch hours of "Three's Company", "Diff'ent Strokes" and "The Facts of Life". This was during my early teenage years, the years that I used television and film to escape the reality of my life, which had been tumultuous and unsettling since my parents got divorced a few years earlier. My world had changed forever and I was finding it hard to adapt. We had moved away from our ranch, and as my life became a little less carefree, I discovered how movies made some of the harsh realities of my life go away, if only for two hours at a time. Being a teenager was hard enough, but the added disillusionment and pressure of dealing with the drama of my parents' divorce intensified it; not to mention the sadness and loss associated with leaving my childhood home… my sanctuary, my playground, my carefree wonderland. So, TV and film really did their job for me, suspending my disbelief and beguiling me into a love affair of cinema in those impressionable and formative years.
And as a very thin, non-atheletic, skin-and-bones kid/teenager, eating those Thin Mint cookies never did anything to me in an adverse way as far as my figure was concerned. Not one bulge or roll showed up on my body as a result of this cookie indulgence. Consequently, keeping my weight or figure was not even a required motivation to get me to physically exercise.
It was not until I was a freshman in college that I did actually have to face a challenge with my weight. I gained the expected "freshman fifteen" after a whole year of eating dorm food consisting mostly of bagels and cream cheese, sugary cold cereals with milk, pizza, pasta, and ice cream galore. Since I grew up in a house of wheat bread, Quaker granola and fruit roll-ups (true signs of "health nut" parents in the 70's and 80's, but laughable by today's standards), as opposed to my most of my friends that ate Wonder bread, Fruit Loops and Ding Dongs, I had a pretty good head and palate for healthy eating.  Nevertheless, I wasn't much of a vegetable eater in college, as there was no one there to make me eat them. So I guess I indulged a bit during that first year of freedom simply because I could, and it showed in my fuller, rounder face and body.
I also spent most my time that first year sitting around - in class, studying, writing papers and watching movies. This sedentary existence was curbed my sophomore year when I was paired up to live in the same dorm room with a female student athlete who was on a track and field scholarship for long-distance running. She was in the best shape and had the most muscular legs I had ever seen on a girl. The stark opposite of my physique, which was a bit plump for my thin frame with no muscle tone to speak of.  My new roommate was a physically healthy and mentally positive person, and I found that very attractive, thus we quickly became good friends. I had never had a close friend that was that serious about fitness or competitive sports. Her introduction into my life was also my introduction to running; and for the first time, I wondered if it would be something I would like to try to do.  I remembered my aversion to running the track in junior high, but now the idea of running intrigued me. I asked and she agreed to teach me all that she knew about training for endurance running… really just showing me "how" to run - the proper form and technique - how to pace myself, how to breathe, and how and where to focus my attention.
I began to run regularly that school year and loved it. It worked for me. Finally, I had an alternative to sitting sedentary and zoning out on the latest romantic comedy romp to escape in. Going outside for a run gave me a place to be by myself, be with my own thoughts, and feel empowered to be the me I was, as I was.
My world changed. My body transformed. I saw it morph back to the skinny version I had in high school, but this time it came with some muscles and curves that I never enjoyed as an adolescent.
I ran consistently all through my junior and senior years of college, which helped keep me fit and sane as a Film Studies major, when watching endless hours of movies, editing endless hours of footage I shot, and sitting endless hours at the computer writing my film theory term papers was my reality.
I continued with my running after graduation and throughout my 20's while working in the film industry too. It remained my source of strength and empowerment those years of working on film sets and studio lots where, often frustratingly so, my youthful and attractive female countenance and body got me more attention than my skill and talent for working to create the art and entertainment I so loved. I looked to running for peace, quiet, acceptance, introspection, and blissful solitude in a life and career that didn't afford me these virtues often, if at all.
In the year 2000, a film called What Women Want was released in which a fictional Nike ad campaign for women's running was the focal point. The main characters, played by Mel Gibson and Helen Hunt, create a TV commercial in which the moving image of a woman running alone on a road is accompanied by a voiceover as follows:Â
"You don't stand in front of a mirror before a run and wonder what the road will think of your outfit. You don't have to listen to its jokes and pretend they are funny in order to run on it. It would not be easier to run if you dressed sexier. The road doesn't notice if you're not wearing lipstick, does not care how old you are. You do not feel uncomfortable because you make more money than the road. And you can call on the road, whenever you feel like it, whether it has been a day, or even a couple hours since your last date. The only thing the road cares about is that you pay it a visit once in a while. Nike. No games. Just sports."
As a single, professional woman, who was also a runner, I LOVED this. Â It spoke to me - the twenty-seven year old version of me - who ran three miles a day at least five times a week. It became my mantra. I printed it out and stuck it on my fridge. Â I connected with the sentiment behind it, the comfort of not feeling judged, measured, or valued by my looks, my job, my youth- not when running. The freedom from the judgment of society in general, and Los Angeles in particular, was palpable when I went running. Alone, just me and the road, that freedom and feeling of pure acceptance was very powerful.
So here I am today, years later, still running. I still get the same feeling now as I did when I began. While running, there really are no games - no one to impress, no one to try to look good for, no one to try to amuse or pretend to be amused by - it's just you, moving your body, feeling the wind, relishing the solitude, and basking in the peace that comes with time to yourself, to your own thoughts, to living life at your own pace.
I really wish I could just put life on pause sometimes - slow it down, take a breath. Do some things before other things inevitably have to occur. Pause a moment in time and FEEL it, experience it for what it is, independent of everything else, before everything else has its chance to weigh in. I feel like I'm racing the clock so often that there just isn't enough time to fit in the things I want to say, do, write, accomplish, BE. To be able to be on my own time, on my own schedule, independent of meeting deadlines imposed by others and by life in general… that would be dreamy.
Since this is not possible, I must settle for a 30-minute mini vacation when I run. Thirty minutes of blissful piece of mind is mine. When I take to the road, running, to me, is my life on pause. Within those thirty minutes, my mind is free to think what it wants, my body is free to move how it wants, and I feel free of any limitations and restrictions that may weigh on me in my life. Â
In addition, the feeling of moving my body forward in such a constant rhythmic manner makes me feel like I am a powerful machine, pushing myself to move with only the determination and energy that I have within. Using my strength, my muscles, my joints and bones to propel my body forward down the road is such an amazing feeling and gives me an inner strength and determination not found elsewhere.
Who'd of thought that sedentary, skinny, screen-obsessed kid eating piles of cookies and couch potato-ing on sitcoms and rom-coms would feel this way when she grew up? Definitely not her. But she does… I do.
I find it endlessly fascinating how the journey of your life is like a road you are traveling on, leading you to you - the you you are going to be as you grow, mature, love, and learn. The you you are going to live with, for better or for worse, all of your days. I've come to recognize that this "you" is ever changing, to a certain degree, as the road of your life not only began defining you, but will also continue to define you throughout your life's journey. There is no getting away from it. It just happens. Without your consent or even sometimes without your knowledge, the curves, detours and dips in the road of your life will define you in ways you may never have expected or could have ever anticipated.
I never would have thought I would be a runner. Â Not judging from where I began. But I am. And I am so grateful for that.
For whatever reason, if you can't or don't like to run, I would almost guarantee that you can get a similar experience, with equally beneficial feelings and results, from a number of other physical activities that may be a better fit for you and your personal journey. Just find what works for you and DO IT. Take those moments for yourself to feel like you, your authentic self within, independent of all the judgments and labels of others, and sometimes of yourself; and enjoy the freedom from all of the comparing and competing that plagues our society.
I find it on the road. The road leads me to myself. And I really love where it takes me.
