I can’t even remember last time I was here. On these trails. In these woods. But I know it’s been a while. They don’t really seem that much. It’s not that big area. It takes about 20 minutes to run from one end to another, and there is no truly spectacular view on the way. I must have been here on this exact path at least 1000 times before. Nothing extraordinary about these trails, or the surrounding trees. It’s just a small little forest in the middle of a small little town. I must have passed this rock formation a thousand times. Those exact roots must have felt my quick feet sweep upon them so many times before. And those branches scratched my cheeks at least 4 times before I learned to duck under them. I know exactly what to expect around the next corner. I know exactly where on the trail I should put my feet. I know everything there is to know about these trails. Nothing new, nothing extraordinary, just little me running in the middle of nowhere of this little forest.
There I was, in the middle of nowhere, as close to nowhere you can get in my area at least, suddenly finding myself sitting down on the ground outside of the trail all alone, sobbing like a little child. There I was, a grown man in his thirties, overwhelmed by emotions I hadn’t felt for such a long time. I had fought a long tiresome battle, and in a matter of seconds it was all over, I got the release I so desperately sought out. Every single withheld or constraint motion and intent over the last year was let out in this single moment of pureness. This one event in an otherwise normal day, of an otherwise normal month for me managed to make me forget every single other thing I was supposed to keep on my conscience. It was an event, or an activity that once used to be normal for me. It used to be quite mundane or at the very least a rather ordinary activity. But over the last year, or more truthfully last 18 months I learned how extraordinary it could actually be. It is not something I will ever consider mundane or at the even slightest will take for granted ever again. It pains me, in so many ways, that it took such a long and tormented journey to realize what opportunities it represented, and what I actually possessed.
In the summer of 2015 I reckon I was in the shape of my life, so far. I was running everywhere, up and down, and around, and even got a few strengthening exercises in between the runs. I was thrilled that I managed to continue to build on this relative newfound hobby of mine from the previous year or so. Finally I had found something that I really loved doing. It is to this day the only real hobby I have, besides Football Manager. And together with snorkeling it is the only two activities that I have ever truly loved and therefor put my entire effort and soul into. It’s not due to a lack of experiencing other things, I too was a football nut as a kid (still am to be fair), and I also got a guitar in my darker years in my youth, but nothing could compare to the absurdly easy accessible, free and fun activity that is known as jogging. And as every other loved child, it has many names and many subcategories. Trail running quickly became my favorite. I’ve always been a nature lover, and somewhat of a free spirit. My biggest dream has always been to live of the land somewhere safe and secluded. Something that proved to be just that, a dream. But through running I could get a little closer to that dream. I could be in the wild, if only for a moment, or an hour, or half a day, maybe as much as a week. There I would get my little fix of something pure, true, natural and raw. It kept me sane. It kept me grounded. It kept me clear. Running became my drug, and I was one happy junkie.
In 2015 I finally made my running a bit more structured and organized. I was running half-marathons in rather hard trail terrain with about 1400 vertical meters on 1 hour and 40 minutes and made a plan to attempt ultra-marathons by 2019. I felt great, and looked accordingly too. But then I fell. I fell out of everything. One moment in an otherwise perfect day that ruined my whole plan. It ruined me. I had one unfocused moment, one moment where my mind slipped far far away, when it really shouldn’t slip away at all. That was all.
I wish it could have been that easy. I did fall. It was a bad one, but not life or career threatening. I was running around in this small but beautiful mountainous area on about 1100 meters above sea level. I tripped on some rocks and smashed my right knee on a sharp rock while twisting my ankle. It happened at the pretty much worst point of the trip it possible could. I had to jog/walk 12 kilometers to get back to my camp, get all my gear in my way to heavy backpack and then drive back home before I fainted due to the pain and the stressful thoughts of what would happen to my running. That injury was only the start on an agonizing long dark time for me. The ankle healed quickly enough. But my knee is still bad today. I also got a typical case of runner’s knee on top of that so I guess my knees are pretty far from those of Zlatans. My knee pains kept me from running for a couple of months at the end of 2015. And that felt like the end of my time running up until today to be honest.
I started running again in January 2016 after a couple of months resting and with alternative training. My knee didn’t really feel that much better when I started running in the mountains again and adding verticals. So I started to run less and do more strength exercises for my knee. This initially appeared to do some good and in November 2016 I had my first week with more than 50 kilometers in well over a year. Then I thought the pain and the injuries were finally over. That thought remained in my mind perhaps a whole day. My knee acted up again and I decided to rest it away, and build it up once more. No more running for at least three months. I was to just focus on specialized exercises for my knee problems. I went to an expert in running injuries and got some advice, most of it I of course already knew, but anyways. I focused mostly on goblet squats and stretches.
Eventually I got back to my peak lifting records and thought it was all good as I had rested for about 3 months and then been lifting weights and stretching for over a month after that. I did notice a weird feeling in my lower back however, and after a couple of weeks with playing football and lifting more weights in my goblet squat routine the weird feeling in my lower back was suddenly manifesting as a really intense and constant feeling of pain located more specifically in my tailbone section. It got so bad after exercises that I couldn’t walk straight. I think of myself as a guy who has had his share of pain, but this was new. It was such an intense pain that it affected everything, not just when I was running uphill or lifting heavy weights. It would smack me down in the middle of a day when I was just walking a bit too fast down some stairs, or lifting groceries, or even when I was doing what every man does after a couple of cups of coffee in the morning, or just sneezing, or even putting on my shoes. Every little and big thing I did hurt. The only thing I could do, was to lie completely still in a very soft bed in just the right angle. And then the pain went away. So I did what most men sadly do, forget all about until it smacks you right down again the next day. So after a few too many repeated loops of that I went to another expert who told me I had a fracture in my tailbone which together with some muscular pain in my gluteus caused quite the stir in the area. Not to worry though, I could train my way through it and it wasn’t anything serious apparently. There was something in this expert arrogant behavior that made me think he had never experienced the pain it causes himself, but ok, I took his word and decided to have another go at this little hobby of mine.
The pain exploded in February 2017 and went on until the summer, still goes on to be fair. I had just gotten better from my knee problems and finally saw a little bit of light and then this happened. I never felt as little, as weak and fragile and worthless as I did when the tailbone pains was thundering on at its worst. It felt like it was never going to heal, never going to stop. It made me think that I was never going to do the one thing I truly loved doing again. The one thing I could have for myself, or share with others at my choosing. The one thing I wanted to do every single day for the rest of my life. I would never do that again? No, it couldn’t be. What life is that? A life where I am shown magic and freedom only to be denied it again? A life where I had found a way to actually connect with nature once again only to have it taken from me? No, I don’t want that kind of life. That is not a life for me. I actually thought that if I could not be active, if I could not feel the breeze on my face as I am running on a top of a mountain once again, I rather not live. Quite dark, I mean it’s only running, right?
It’s not only running. It’s a way to disconnect from all the complicated and heavy things an adult must face on a daily basis through work or through family. It is a way to reorganize ones thoughts after something traumatic. It is a way to feel something once again, even if it is just a feeling of exhaustion. Deny me that rush of endorphins that makes me scream out loud my true feelings towards a subject, and deny me my right to live. It is not just running. It is life. Running is life.
It was not denied me. I reclaimed it. Back in the middle of nowhere, just outside of the trail. I reclaimed my inner Killian. My inner Krupicka. I regained my previously so strong willpower and mental state. I rediscovered my joy for the nature and sweating through a whole day out in it. That is why I cried today. That is why I hope to cry more sometime next week, I wish I could say tomorrow, but let’s be reasonable for once. It was happy tears, with a big hope of more moments like this in them.
Today I got a good old fashioned sunburn and at least 20 mosquito bites, and I might have even got a tick on me. But you know what? I loved it. Totally worth it. Because I am finally outside running in the wild again. And that trumps a bit of sore feet, or burned shoulders or itching arms. Please dear beloved nature, give me all you got for I am finally again ready and I will keep on running!