Junior government and politics major
As I draft this column, I am running in my first ever half-marathon. My time won’t be the fastest, and I won’t be close to the winner. Many on this campus can probably run faster and farther, but that doesn’t matter to me at the moment. For me, it is just steps, the feeling of feet against pavement, my country music playlist blaring.
Thousands of runners surround me, and we’re careful to stay out of one another’s way and stay safe. But otherwise, it’s just me, Matt, running the race against myself. In most respects, I am back at home running in the scorching summer heat or racing down Paint Branch Trail.
It is in this world that I have found sanctuary and focus. The 30 to 40 miles a week provide an outlet for excess energy (both mental and caloric). Running is monotonous for most people, including myself. The path is familiar, the pace is mostly constant, and it’s just one foot in front of the other. Often the only noticeable change is the weather. I have run in snowstorms and scorching summer days, beautiful spring mornings and rainy fall evenings.
As I run through the streets of Washington, I reflect on running’s impact on my life. It gave me a goal when I needed it most. It helps me stay healthy and in shape. But most importantly, it gives me a chance to relax and reflect.
Five times a week, I can think about my most pressing problems, homework, sports, friends or nothing at all. You might not need running to do that, but you undoubtedly need something similar — be it listening to music, driving, painting or playing basketball. The monotony of foot-on-pavement becomes an hour of reflection, often on a beautiful day with great music.
Some of my friends love to tease me for my running obsession — rightfully so, considering how much I talk about it — but running has become part of my self-identity. What started as a struggle to run a few miles has become an inseparable habit. Running, to me, is both a battle to run faster and farther and a time to relax.
The beauty of running’s relaxing nature is it can be found anywhere. Even when I visited London this summer, I found time to run along the Thames and felt the same sense of relaxation that I do running around the campus (though the former admittedly has many more historic landmarks).
Right now, I barely notice the other runners or my sweat. I do see a beautiful day, hear Chase Rice’s voice and feel a surge of adrenaline. I don’t look back. I give all the effort I have. I think about life, the Dolphins game, dinner and this column. It is hard to believe, but I am having fun running this race.
Running for most of us is an internal struggle, a battle against the clock and ourselves, not one another. That’s why I and others were smiling as we crossed the finish line behind hundreds of runners.
The race today was supposed to be a culmination of sweat and pain, a final goal reached. And I will reach my goal. But instead of a finale, I’m just reaching another mile marker in a long race. The end isn’t in sight, but I’ll be sure to enjoy the journey.
Matt Dragonette is a junior government and politics major. He can be reached at mdragonettedbk@gmail.com.
