Silver Lining

In general, I do not like running as a "hobby."  As a social activity, it can be somewhat tolerable, but holding conversations during a long run when you are clearly the less athletic of the party can be difficult.  As a solo activity, I find that it ranges from boring to really boring.

Why do I do it?  A couple reasons.  First, as I have mentioned before, I do not come from what one would call "good stock."  By that I mean that my body sucks.  While my asthma has never been an everyday nuisance, it does keep my lungs pitifully weak.  How weak?  I cannot blow up party balloons.  For some reason, the Wife finds this endlessly entertaining.  She is always looking for excuses to watch me attempt to blow up a balloon.  She is awesome.

As a secondary reason under the "not good stock" category, my family health history tells me that I should be having a heart attack any day now.  Perhaps if I continue to anticipate such an occurrence, it will never happen.  As a precautionary measure, in case my pot-boiling theory of preventative medicine does not pan out, I try my damnedest to torture my body in the name of maintaining a healthy lifestyle.

The last reason is that, a long, long time ago, at a high school far, far away, I developed a love for ultimate frisbee, a sport that is, by my primitive count, about 10% catching, 10% throwing, 10% cursing, and 100% running.  And while I may eventually be able to prove otherwise, it is rather difficult for me to play without that running part.

But when you step into an ultimate game out of shape, that equation becomes 10% catching, 10% throwing, 10% running, 30% cursing, and 40% doubling over and gasping for air.

And so I run.  As a "hobby."

But a recent development has made the actual running almost enjoyable again.  My job search.  You see, when you get as frustrated and angry as I have been about the job search, you want to go out to an ultimate game and let out all your aggression.  But, when you suck and/or you are out of shape, odds are that you just play poorly, which results in more frustration.  And then there are the days when, no matter how decent you are, you keep getting matched up on guys that make it an obnoxious habit of schooling you.  You know, the taller, faster, stronger guys.  Which is almost all of them.

And so I run.  Not just to stay in shape or be better prepared for the next game, but because, somehow, running around the labyrinthine neighborhoods west of our house is a remarkably effective way of releasing those frustrations.  As though with every step, I am pounding the heads of HR reps into the concrete.  It helps that the layout of the area is such that you only need to know one direction: uphill, corresponding with moving away from our house.  So, I can make turns at random, enjoying the sensation of not caring which way I go, feeling lost without being lost as I release the day's/week's tensions.  And that is why I find myself running quite a bit lately.

Thus, while I continue to worry about any lasting effects to my mental health during this job search, when I do eventually find work, I will be in damn good shape.