It has been said that runners have their best thoughts of the day while out running. Runner and writer
Michael Selman shares his
"Thoughts on Running" with us here at ontherunevents.com.
I do a lot of driving through the North Georgia Mountains and the
Carolinas, and I've noticed that this part of the country has its share of
quiet roads. Quiet, however, does not exactly mean silent. These roads
actually talk to me through their tranquility, and they whisper my name,
barely audibly, but undeniably. They soothingly grab my attention, and
once they have gotten it, under their breath, they always utter the same
two-word refrain. Like a gentle breeze, they plead. "Run me."
Whenever I hear the call, I find myself for one brief moment
rearranging the rest of the day in my mind, and, once that is done,
pulling over to oblige the call. But there is always a reason I don't.
Either I have an ultimately unyielding agenda for the day, or there are
people waiting at the other end of my travels, or I'm just not ready to
take that kind of risk, so the thought is fleeting. I have therefore
always denied the invitation, tricking myself in to believing that maybe,
some day, I'll return to answer that call. But thus far, though the roads
are always inviting, I have not accepted the invitation.
The roads that whisper my name are always roads less traveled, and
that's what makes them so compelling. These whispering roads of which I
speak all have a similar character. They are for the eye's eternity
tree-lined, with an abundance of shade, and the roads themselves are
always ascending until they ultimately stretch beyond view, only adding to
the mystery and intrigue. Perhaps, if just one time, I chose to pull over,
and accept the road's request to run, it would make all the difference.
But so far, I have remained indifferent. There are risks in the unknown
and unrevealed, and these roads gently dare me and seemingly taunt me to
find out what lies just beyond my view. That's why they continue to call
out to me, and goad me by saying "Run me." The roads that
whisper my name remain an unaccepted offer, and an unsolved mystery,
because I continue to stay true to the paths I know, where I feel safe and
protected. They remain an invitation I have yet to accept. But the
temptation grows to some day give in to the plea. "Run me."
Whispering roads are not like the roads I run every day, which have
less and less to say as the years go on. The familiar roads no longer
talk, as they did when they were new. They are reliable and predictable,
and I run in peaceful communion with them, but there is little new on
roads that I have come to know so well that I could traverse them with my
eyes closed. They are, at the same time, safe, and somewhat monotonous.
Perchance , the day will come when I wake up discovering that the same
old road is no longer the comfort I had always thought it to be. Upon that
realization, I may just hop in my car, and point it north, without any
particular final destination, and without any specific activity to
complete. I may drive with no other purpose but to hear, and be ready to
respond to that whisper I've heard so many times before. "Run
me." That road I choose may turn out to be a dead end, or it might
possibly be a new beginning. But taking that whispering road might make
all the difference.
The Roads Scholar, Michael Selman runs and writes in Atlanta GA. He
would love to hear from you. Please e-mail him at TheRoadsScholar@aol.com
with any questions or comments. You can also subscribe to his Newsletter
at that same address.
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