The Kennedy Battery

Cold days: heavy lungs, deep breaths.  Warm days: tight chest, quick breaths.  All days: loose-laced sneakers, one piece of gum, Rumours album by Fleetwood Mac blaring, and I’m ready to go.  Running is something I do regardless of the weather, regardless of my mood, and something that always helps my personal ambiance. 

Doctors advise against them, I swear by them: loose laces

Distance is my specialty, and it has been fine-tuned since being in Italy.  Towns strung together by narrow roads, surrounded by open fields and wineries, steeples appear to be calling my name miles away, and the temperature always seems to be just right.  Although my work out regimen is not much of a regimen at all, if it’s a blue-sky day, I try and run.  The mountains create the issue of altitude and uneven terrain,  but the views and seemingly endless roads make up for it.  At school and back at home I have such a system with my running.  I have marked out the two or three routes I like best, know the exact distances and time it takes to complete, but have sadly found myself losing some of the spirit.  Running on another continent just may have solved my problem.

My iPhone is also my iPod, so because I cannot use it over here, when I run here it's a treat to tote it around.  I usually crave music when I’m running, and depending on my mindset, the genre changes.  I like the beats in rock, rap, and, surprisingly, mellow.  But for being such a music junkie, I have been surprised by my enthusiasm when I find my phone dead, meaning I run without music.

My phone screen...take the family with me everywhere

The quiet of the mountains overwhelms me when I run.  The further I run, the less cars I see, the more peaceful my journey becomes.  The crispy melody of my shoes on the dirt road, the sun on my shoulders, and I’m in a whole new world. As I move away from the town and through the mountains I love seeing the rolling, green hills, filled with sparse vineyards, horses, work sheds, and every thing between.  My runs through the nearby towns are more like running at home, yet not at all.  There is the bustle of cars, trucks, stores, bikers, church bells and all that comes with a "city."  But at the same time, the towns are so much more quaint and compact; they are unlike any other area I've run through. 

My "half-way spot" is always strategically selected, and usually from a far; creating a goal for me to strive to attain.  If I'm in the mountains, I try to look for an open area with one dominant object near it (tractor, shed, large tree, etc).  I will stop there, sit, stretch, pray, and then sit.  It's usually a ten minute stop, and it's so calming, it is literally like I have recharged the Kennedy battery, and I'm ready for the remainder of my run and the end of my day.  If I'm going the town route, I stick to the church steeples; they are elevated and I've found that most the towns have at least one.  My stops there might be my favorite because I miss going to church so much, and I feel my thoughts are based on everyone at home I'm missing and praying for while I'm away.

Option A: 

Option B:

A fully-charged Kennedy Battery

For being one of the most generic activities, running is one of the most personal times for me.  It's more than an exercise, it's a learning experience, a spiritual time and a passion.  Each run evokes different thoughts, but I always revert to the same "place," that calm, homey, memory lane, when I hit my "half-way spot."  I'm not in Kansas anymore, but even I can't run from the memories of it.