Beeb Blog

    - Saturday January 29th 1AM -

    I left the house the most let down and disappointed that I had ever felt. I wanted nothing more but to run until it hurt, I felt like only pain could take away the anger building inside of me like lava. I was hauling ass, I hadn't run in over a month and a half but I was hauling ass. It took a little while for me to start feeling a burn so this too felt good, at least I wasn't totally out of shape. By the time I was starting to really feel it I was on the southernmost part of campus near the stadium. I was planning on just a quick loop around campus, but I was nowhere near done so I turned down a path directly towards the stadium. Once I got to the intersection and crossed the street I was still wondering when I would turn around. As I crossed the Montlake Bridge I looked down upon the begging of one of my favorite runs, a pitch-black trail that twisted in and out of the woods inches above Lake Washington. As soon as I saw it, there was no more contemplation, it was calling out to me and I had to answer. A quick interlude down a flight of stairs and I was there, on a trail that I knew I could always come back to, especially when I needed to think. As I ran alone in darkness hearing an occessional toad jump into the water I was finally able to think. I love running in the dark because even with your eyes open you can't see much. You are left with all your other senses, enhanced and burning for information. Your heartbeat is clear, the feeling of the bark beneath your feet, the rustle of leaves in the light night breeze, and the sweet taste of the sweat of a good workout; solitude. 

    As I ran I could feel an urge welling up side of me. As it grew I knew what it was; the urge to scream. I'm no screamer but this past year I've overcome the feeling of being awkward about it and am not shy about it any more. However, I was running in the pitch-black, in the middle of a park at night, with nobody around (at least nobody whom I wanted to know where I was)… but as the urge rose higher I could not deny it, why deny it? I screamed as loud as I could and it felt great. A few minutes later I screamed again. There is something about screaming as loud as you possibly can. You feel like you're letting the heavens know that you're alive and fighting. 

    I kept running but was again wondering when I was going to turn back. I felt fine but it had been nearly two months since I last ran and I hadn't since because of a broken foot. I shouldn't push myself or my foot beyond the limit. So I asked my body if it would be ok if I kept going, and it answered with a strong silence, no complaints, only urging me on. I decided not to ever turn back tonight, I decided that I would not repeat any part of this route. 

    I got to the arboretum and was happy to be on familiar trails. I could run these trails with my eyes closed. It felt great to be in a familiar wonderland surrounded by trees, running on dirt, with nothing to light the way but the little moonlight that ventured through the foliage investigating this foreigner. As I twisted and turned through the evergreens and ferns, up hills, down hills, I could feel another urge welling up inside of me. I asked my body what it was and I heard one reply, "naked." Run naked? Really? I've heard of people doing it but I'm now at least a mile away from anyone that could save me if anything happened, this was a fairly dangerous place if I came across someone wishing to make it so. Furthermore, to run into a threat naked just goes against your natural instincts but this urge too I had to answer. I ripped off my beanie as I stopped, took off my shirt, and dropped my shorts.

    The first time I was naked was in a public shower at the end of last year, my sophomore year in college. I have never been naked anywhere outside of my bedroom and certainly don't walk around naked. I can't tell you how truly wonderful this feels. When I was running in the woods at first I had the impulse to cover myself a little bit but it started to feel natural very quickly. A while later the cloths I was carrying felt heavy in my hand so I set those down and ran a bit in nothing but my Lance Armstrong bracelet, an "over 21" wristband I got earlier that night, and my Vibrams. I could barley feel my body it felt so light. My arms were free, my legs were unimpeded, it was fantastic. I picked up my cloths and kept running. As I got close to a road I knew I had to cross I put on my shorts and beanie. There was no way I was putting my shirt on the rest of the night, and kept going. I rounded a bend and realized that I still had a ways to go so down went the shorts again. I ran naked until the last possible moment. 

    When I put them back on, the shorts felt so heavy and restrictive I wanted to take them off again, but decided to finish my run without the risk of being "questioned" by officers. I crossed the street to run on my second favorite trail in the world. It's a mile and a half long road that winds through the a mountainside overlooking the university district. There are houses on the left, no lights, and smooth black pavement. It's like running on a black frozen river. As I pressed on I started to feel better, more at ease than I thought I would be possible after happened earlier in the night. I thought I wouldn't feel this way for at least a week, maybe two. I asked myself what was important to me and one thing that came to mind was my California Superbike School interview. So I started reciting things that they would ask me in the interview. Survival reactions (things that happen when you are scared on a motorcycle) and what to do about them. I started quietly lipping them, "Throttle rule number one, once the throttle is cracked open, it is rolled on evenly smoothly and constantly throughout the remanded of the turn." The further I ran the louder it got until I was just short of the volume and intensity I would use to answer a marine drill-sergeant. Any louder and I thought I would wake someone, which would be rude, so i kept it to a dull roar. Once I emerged from the road back into the dull yellow illumination that the street lights of Seattle so faithfully offered, I was at ease. 

    I was running down the last huge hill before the university bridge and was coming up on a guy walking with headphones on. There wasn't much room so I darted by him nearly brushing his jacket sleeve. He BOLTED to the side instantly. For a moment, I felt bad, I didn't mean to scare him, but then I started to laugh. Laughter spilled out for the next few paces and I smiled. I was at ease. A little over a mile and some hills later I was back at Theta Xi. Watching Good Will Hunting and drinking a glass of coffee polished off the night better than anything else could. 

    I am at ease.