Last Friday, in the middle of the afternoon heat, I was running up a steep hill, head tilted down, breathing heavily - resembling a hyena about to collapse from exhaustion. Once I reached the top, my brain ordered my legs to take a break, so without much voluntary action on my part, I sat on the sidewalk and tried to gasp in as much air as I could with heavy breaths.
A stranger walking up the hill saw me in that state and asked if I was doing okay. I gave a quick thumbs-up and a forced smile that said, "leave me alone," and so he left me alone there.
I was supposed to do a moderately hard 3.5 mile run that day - part of my low-mileage, slow-pace training plan that's supposed to at least make me a below-average runner. Someone slightly to the left of the running bell curve’s peak. But I blame my two demons for turning it into an extremely difficult run in 80-degree heat.
I call the first demon Pridemaster - it makes me boastful about my recent running consistency and convinces me I can run faster, even up that steep hill I always used to walk. But halfway up, when my legs and lungs start begging for mercy, Pridemaster fades and gives way to the second demon, Insecuron.
Insecuron reminds me how slow and weak I am, and how I’m stuck in a rut in life. This lights a fire in me, making me think, “I will die, but first let me go up that hill and die.” As badass as it sounds, it was a bad idea. The extreme exertion flared up my allergies, leading to severe rhinitis, which made my already boring weekend miserable.
But lying sick in the bed gave me enough time to write this article.
To be honest, running up that hill was also part of my "running away from problems" coping strategy I’ve adopted lately. For someone who used to be passionate about data science and constantly found things to write or joke about, I haven’t learned anything new in six months. Add to that my visa situation - my application didn’t get picked in the H1B lottery this year - which means if the next two attempts fail, I’ll have to leave the country and start from scratch again in India.
And behind all that - quietly but constantly - is the fact that I’m single and in my late 20s, which adds yet another layer of complication. Like many guys with my conundrum, I asked Reddit how people are finding life partners these days. Reddit laughed back - most said dumb luck. The only other option? Dying alone.
The H1B lottery already showed me how bad my luck is, so things aren’t looking too great in the dating department either.
Lately, the simple act of putting on my running shoes, going outdoors, and placing one foot in front of the other - with hands pumping and lungs suffering - has been my only way of clearing the mental clutter about career, dating, and demons with weird names. Hitting little running milestones, even slowly, has been my main source of dopamine. It’s also been a cheaper alternative to therapy.
(Disclaimer: this stunt is performed by a trained professional. Please do not try this at home.)
I’m looking forward to this rhinitis dialing back so I can go for a short run tomorrow morning. This time, I’ll try to ditch the demons and just walk up that hill.
But for all the strangers who might see me awkwardly jogging tomorrow and wonder if I’m okay, I wish I could just reply:
“Hey, I’m just trying to run away from my problems.”
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