I’m a runner.

It started the first time I looked in the mirror and was scared of what I saw. I've been running ever since. I run until it hurts, and then I run a little bit more.

I run from everyone, but mostly myself.

Once I was running in a marathon, and I reached that point where my brain emptied. I was aware only of my breath, of the pattern of the pavement hitting my feet, and of the warmth of the sun. All of a sudden I felt the presence of my Uncle who died over a year ago. Alzheimer's. It was a profoundly beautiful and sad moment which I don't understand but for which I am thankful.

As I question myself in the interest of personal growth, I think about my habit of running. For me, running is a rejection of the status quo. A desire to get to a "better" place. Mentally, physically, spiritually, emotionally. But to dig deeper, I have to examine what it is I am running from. What did I see, that first time I looked in the mirror?

I saw bad. I saw my dark side. I saw the scary underbelly of the human spirit. I saw what religions seek to absolve one of. I saw the opposite of everything my parents were teaching me to be. And I have been running from her ever since.

Forty some years later, I realize I can't get away from her. I can't run from her. I can't exorcise her. I certainly can't drink her into oblivion because drinking only encourages her presence.

Forty some years later, I realize. I have to accept her. That side of me, there isn't inherent shame in her mere existence. Everyone has a dark side. Some let it out more than others, that's all. Encouraging the good and shaming the bad, that was just my parent's way of controlling me. I learned it was how to control myself. Shame the bad.

But then terrible things happened to me. And I couldn't separate me being bad and my life being unlucky. I ran harder. I ran more frequently. I ran from jobs, relationships...I ran right into more hardship. More turmoil. I ran away again. Life got worse. I ended up thinking I was such a horrible person, I didn't even deserve to live. Why waste air and space on such human detritus as I had become?

Forty some years later, I realize. Control is an illusion, and sometimes a delusion. I didn't create a world that rapes and beats little girls. I didn't cause that to happen from being bad.

I still wince when I look in the mirror sometimes. I'm not proud of a lot of decisions I have made. It hurts me that my struggle to achieve balance knocked so many other people out of balance. I see that darkness in my eyes and I want to run.

Control may be an illusion, but the power of choice is not. Every day I make choices which change the course of my life in small and large ways. Every day I make choices which change the course of others' lives in small and large ways. Which aspect of me do I want to allow to make those choices?

I still run. Short distances and long distances. But there are times, also, when I choose to stay. Forty some years later, I realize, if I've made a bad choice, I need to love myself extra. That small shift has the power to change everything.

I don't want to stop running. I just want to change the direction. I want to start running towards things instead of away from them. I'm a runner.