Dark Moments

The fog was so thick it wrapped a suffocating blanket around my chest, making breathing difficult.  Or maybe it was the fear that made breath impossible.  Pitch black and lit only by the occasional noise from the trees which lined the road.  The neighborhoods with their porch lights and Christmas trees were several blocks back and as I put one foot in front of the other I was aware of the futility of my headlamp.

The final stretch of road between me and the park was long and black in a way you can find only in the country away from the noise and lights.  I started down the last stretch knowing it well from hundreds of miles pacing this path. I knew the only thing to either side of me was thick woods and furry creatures.  I hesitated for a moment and my running partner slowed with me, always in tune with my thoughts, often before I was. In fact it was only when she altered her stride that I became aware of my own change.  An internal battle was taking place, a mental tug of war.  “You will be fine, you know the road and Ellie is with you”.  The dialogue of the other end of the rope, the one I named fear was not understandable in dialogue, it was a general sense of dread and vague uneasiness.  There was nothing specific to be afraid of, rather it was the feeling of being so completely alone and vulnerable which gave me pause.  Maybe it was the fog, so thick I could feel it fill my lungs as I ran.   Maybe it was because it had been a while since I had run in the dark, or since I had run at all. 

This all took place in my head in a matter of seconds.  I looked at Ellie, gave her the usual “let’s go” and grabbed my pace, plunging into the darkest section of my run. 

Up until this brief struggle I had been enjoying one of those rare occasions in running when everything is flowing so perfectly you wish it would never end.  As I ran into the thick air, I felt the flow return and couldn’t help but smile.  I realized the metaphor immediately of course and spent the next couple miles thinking on how often I have experienced similar moments of hesitation.  Without doubt I have never once in my life turned around away from the fear.  From the youngest age I can remember I have always dove headfirst into the darkness, even in times I probably should not have.  I don’t have a fairy tale ending and the outcome has not always been what I was hoping for.  On the flip side however I can say wholeheartedly that I have not one single regret for any of those moments, they become me and my story.

Earlier in the night I had decided to go for a run on a whim.  I hadn’t been out in a while, over two months because of a broken foot.  I was heading out with girlfriends for a night out, my first night out in too long to admit.  I figured I would run/walk which is what I had been doing the last couple weeks but walking more than running.

Everything seemed to be clicking though and as I started I knew right away it was going to be one of those magical runs.  And it was.  Had I turned around I would have been missed out.  I know the pride that comes with facing the fear and coming out on the other side and I know the disappointment of not accomplishing what I have set out to do. 

Make no mistake, the majority of that dark section in the fog, I was afraid.  Every noise I heard meant a skunk was ready to spray.  Yes a skunk.  I know there are no bears, the other animals don’t scare me, but I am consistently nervous about being sprayed by a skunk while running in the woods in the dark.  I am afraid of creepy humans who might be out there and people who have twisted and malicious intentions.  And yet I know the odds of this are small and in fact no bigger than any other time running. 

My victory though is in allowing and accepting my emotions, but not letting them drive my decisions.  This is a battle most of us face and fight.  The most important reminder I give myself is this is how I have gotten to my most amazing experiences.  From world travel to achieving my “impossible” to a foggy nighttime run, the fear has been overwhelming.  The only thing bigger than the fear?  My pride and my gratitude after I make my way through the darkness.