Staying Happy.

I run in large part to be happy. I run because I like the way it makes my body feel when I’m done. I like the way it regulates my mood. The combination of exercise and sobriety has meant that I have not had to confront depression in any major way for the past several years. A couple of little dips, certainly. But nothing significant or alarming. Even last year when I thought I needed a course of anti-depressants, my doctor didn’t think so, and he was right. I came through it just fine. I wasn’t depressed. I was a little overwhelmed and a little anxious and a little sad. I know how to cope with those things now.

I run to be happy. I run because I feel excited that I can do things now that once were absolutely impossible for me. I run because it makes me feel good to do difficult things that I know not many people attempt. I love that I can run. I love that I’m fit enough to run for two hours or more without stopping. I wish I could do better. I can do better. I will keep running. I will do other things that allow me to run better. I will set goals to run further and faster. I will work harder to achieve those goals.

What I won’t do is incorporate my self-worth into a metric. I won’t decide whether I had a good or a bad race based on who I defeated. Based on hitting a specific time. I run to be happy. And that happiness is not enslaved to arbitrary benchmarks.

Whether I go faster tomorrow or slower, whether I lose by a little or lose by a lot (because winning a race is not in my future, and I don’t much care), I will be happy I could run. I can do things I only dreamed about. And the fact that I’ve worked so hard to do the things I dreamed about has allowed me to discover that I can do things I never even dreamed about. And so running has enlarged my dreams. My ambitions.

Whatever I do today is good. Yesterday I mostly rested. I hadn’t rested in a long time. Resting, for me, on this Wednesday, meant my 1.2 mile walk to and from work. And a 2.2 mile bike ride each way to and from my Men’s Meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous. A total of about an hour of very light cardio. No pounding. No heaving. But only a few years ago, a 2.4 mile walk, a 4.4 mile bike ride, would have been exhausting, major challenges. Yesterday, I did both in the same day and it was a rest day. That makes me happy.

I’m obsessive about measuring things. I keep track of all my runs, all my rides. Store them in spreadsheets. I like to accumulate things. Experiences. But I don’t much care if it’s more or less than someone else. I like to do things that few people try, yes. But I also like to encourage others to try them. Come find what I have. I’m an evangelistic runner. I want to share what I’ve found, what I think is a path to greater happiness.

Run like hell. It doesn’t matter how far. It doesn’t matter how fast. I like to work to do better. Sometimes that means faster than before. Sometimes that means further than before. Sometimes it just means that today, I didn’t have much but I gave what I had. And maybe it was a little better than the last time I didn’t have much but I gave what I had. Maybe it was a little worse. But it was what I had, today. And offering that up gives me a sense of accomplishment.

Staying happy is easier these days. I think partly, it’s that I decided I wanted to be happy. I used to be deeply invested in my unhappiness and I imagined that that made me profound and important. It did not. Deciding I preferred happiness to misery was a difficult decision. I know how odd that sounds to people who haven’t ever had to make that decision. But it’s true.

I used to be in the dark. For so long. I chose to be in a small, dark place, alone. Having now emerged into light, sometimes I feel like the whole sun is a spotlight, just for me. I feel special. I feel special to be bathed in all this happiness, all this sunshine.