Long live the race!

Vive la course!

Life is a race against the clock. The current pandemic is rather a marathon. Regardless of the context, as well to tackle the challenges presented by a valve infallible : the foot race.

In life, as in the pandemic, I’m running. Sometimes, it is a bit of a mess, like a chicken no head. Often, as too many people, it is after the time that I’m running.

But in 2019, the gift that I made myself, it is running for me. This is certainly not because 2020 is the year of all of the cancellations that I’m going to deprive myself of this gift, from me to me. My race in the morning, noon or end of day will not pass through the wringer. Not true that, being confined, it is to be resigned.

A first marathon

But first, a brief return on 2019, in February more precisely. At that moment, I felt more candied than confined. My shape was more spherical than elongated.

There were already a few years that I was running, but in a disorganized manner. The time had come to tackle a half-marathon, that of Levis. Would it be for me to instill the discipline of a rigorous program of running. Not to say that I was too tired, too busy, too much or not enough it. The sting was instant.

The marathon de Quebec, last October, quickly became the next target. And what an epic it was !

There’s nothing like the adrenaline and the happiness of crossing the finish line looking back at all the kilometers of asphalt swallowed during a complete preparation, of several weeks.

Beyond the competition, this gift allowed me to see melt away the extra pounds as a nut of butter in the pan. Nothing like the health to address a health crisis, even if the virus can sneakily take it at all.

The following

This year, as thousands of runners, I have experienced the disappointment of seeing my preparation for a marathon down the drain when the organization of Ottawa cancelled its event on may 24.

At the time, I’ve seen hours and miles to train me in the cold, the snow, the wind and all kinds of winter conditions soar. After the shock, this thinking was already obsolete. This investment (that is the right word) has not been in vain. The competitions will be back. The form, as it is, is never part.

In these odd times, this is not the time to abdicate. Running has become more than a hobby, a necessity.

I run because to me washing their hands 54 times per day, it is good, but it does not secrete any endorphin.

I run because after rinsing the leeks and the box of pogos children coming back from the grocery store, I need to feel minimally sane.

I am running because during these precious minutes of head-to-head between myself and this plays in my ears, I forget the COVID-19. Except when it comes time to respect the distance of two meters, of course.

I run to shake off the fact that there are more sports, more festivals, more dinners, festive friends and more of warm family gatherings.

I run because it makes me the greater good even if at times, it hurts. After all, as she sings poetically Renaud, the suffering, and this is very reassuring, it only happens to the living…

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