Running as Religion

I’ve been running very regularly of late. For the past three weeks or so I’ve been in Perth, just about every single day has been started with a run. These runs last anywhere from half an hour to an hour.

Most days I run with friends; sometimes I run alone.

I find running to be a very therapeutic activity, and one of the best ways to start my day.

Can I say: “it feels like church”?

Peak of my Life

I remember back in 2001, I told myself that “this was it”, this was the “peak of my life”. One of the reasons why I loved life so much then was, I think, in no small part to what religion had done for me.

I was then attending church regularly, on almost every Sunday. No matter how the week went, I knew that I could at least look forward to the unchanging, immovable force that was the church. It was the pillar upon which I depended on. It was a routine that I knew wouldn’t change unless I wanted it to.

I’m beginning to see the similarities between my life back then and my life right now. Running has taken the place of church, and is now the unchanging, immovable force. I know it sounds blasphemous, and many religious folks will give me stick for saying this, but hell (no pun intended), it’s true.

Running and Confidence

Running has gone beyond religion in one area: it has made me a more confident person.

I was never the kind of person you would call “exudes confidence”, because I never was very confident in my abilities. I told myself that no matter what I did, “I’d never be at the bottom, I’d never be at the top, but I’ll always be in the upper middle”.

This held true until the fateful day I achieved a Gold in my IPPT. That day absolutely changed my life. I never walked or talked the same again. I will never forget that day, crossing the finish line and getting my number tag: “001”.

I was reborn. It felt like I had went for confession and knew my sins were forgiven.

Only thing was: this was real.