If you don’t have answers to your problems after a four-hour run, you ain’t getting them.
~Christopher McDougall, Born to Run
The fall of my sophomore year found me struggling through life. My mother already had me on antidepressants, and I was attending regular counseling sessions. My days blurred together. Life was passing me by, my own world moving on without me. Nights were spent wide-awake, staring at the ceiling, waiting for a quick demise. The demise never came, but my best friend AJ did.
She dropped by without notice and barged into my room. As usual, I was lying on my bed, listening to macabre music. She plucked the earphones right out of my ears and plopped on the bed next to me.
“You’re wasting the best years of your life,” she told me, looking me straight in the eyes.
I closed my eyes, avoiding her piercing gaze. “These are the best years of my life?” I barely recognized my own voice at that moment. It sounded so heavy and strained, like speaking was such a huge task. Living itself was such a huge task.
“Every year is potentially the best,” she said, with a touch of finality in her voice. She grabbed my wrist and hauled me into a sitting position. “Enough slugging around. I know, tough times, lots of problems, but that’s no reason to let your life get ruined like this.”
“AJ,” I said, slowly. “Look, I…” I pulled my arm away from her grip. “I really don’t want to…”
“Did I say you have a choice?”
True to her word, she rang the doorbell to my apartment at 5:00 the next morning. I was awake, plagued by a sleep cycle that had become erratic thanks to nightmares. I dragged myself to the door before Mom could wake up, and I opened the door. There she stood in her black-and-pink tracksuit and gray jogging shoes. AJ always looked great — pulled together — while I was a mess, with zits and fat hanging out.
“AJ, what are you even…”
“Shhh!” She held up a finger to her lips, and I stopped talking. She went on, “I was going for a jog, and I didn’t want to go alone. You’re my best friend, are you not?”
Trick question. “I am, but…”
“No buts. Get dressed.”
Long ago, I had learned that a determined AJ was not to be argued with. There was no one I hated more in that moment as I struggled into my old running clothes. They fit far too snugly than my self-esteem would have liked. I remembered that they used to fit perfectly when Dad bought them for me a year ago. So much had changed in just one year. So much had been lost.
I tried to prolong the dressing process, thinking that if the sunlight became too strong, AJ would call off the jog. But she was not to be deterred. She started banging on the door. Scared that my mom would wake up, I dressed quickly and got out.
We left a note for my mom in case she woke up, and we hit the road. Within the first two minutes of walking at a normal speed, I started to realize that AJ had set me up for an impossible task. Whether it was the toll depression had taken on me, or the lack of use of muscles, I was soon out of breath. We took a route from my apartment complex to a nearby park. AJ paused and started doing stretches. I watched in breathless horror.
“Um, are we going to…”
She grabbed my wrist again and pulled me along. Slowly at first, then jogging, and finally running. I tried to keep up, but it was impossible. My legs felt wobbly, and my knees felt like they would snap at any moment. Muscles stretched in ways they were not used to. Lungs expanded like they had never done before.
And then, suddenly, I felt liberated.
I was running free, heart pumping hard and fast. All the blood gushed through my veins, like life coursing through my being. It was amazing. At some point, I realized that AJ had dropped my hand. That was okay; I didn’t need her hand to guide me anymore. I was happy running on my own.
My euphoria didn’t last too long that day, as my unused body didn’t align with my soaring free spirit. AJ was, however, really pleased with my performance. She whooped and hugged me, despite how sweaty we both were. She told me that I had done great and she would bring me the next day, even if she had to force me again.
She didn’t need to force me; I was willing on my own.
Running became a habit, a routine escape from my dreary life. Every day, I looked forward to it. It left me feeling energetic for the rest of the day. I even went to sleep early most nights because I liked running when the sun was rising slowly above the horizon. Before I knew it, people at school were commenting on my improved appearance, how I appeared much livelier than before. Even my counselor commented on it.
I ran and ran and ran, and life took a turn for the better.
This morning, I woke up at 4:30 a.m., left a bright note for my mother and walked over to AJ’s house. I rang the bell thrice until her mother opened the door, looking disheveled.
“She’s still sleeping, sweetie,” she told me, barely controlling a yawn.
“No worries!” I told her. I walked past her into the house, straight to AJ’s room.
She was lying on her stomach, snoring lightly. I jumped onto her bed, jostling her awake.
She groaned. “I don’t want to… Not today…”
I grinned from ear to ear. “Did I say you have a choice?”
— Runeha Sneha —