When I run I like to imagine impossible things.
I visualize I am the lead singer in a band, igniting the air with a fiery melody from deep in my belly, the sweat glistening on my face, a thousand hands up in the air catching the drops of electric rain pouring down in sheets of sound. These waves are so powerful they are nearly visible, like a ribbon of blue light, flowing and connecting the audience with the vibration of the guitar strings, the thumping of the drums, and the beating of my heart. There is only this one moment, and a collective recognition that none of this would exist without each other.
I imagine all those who have supported me my whole life are running with me, inside me, pushing me gently through each kilometre. Perhaps I only met them once, or perhaps their physical form has long passed away. But I can hear them whisper when my muscles soften with fatigue: Just keep running. Just keep running. Just keep running. So I do.
I picture my breath at one with the ocean breeze, my sweat and the rain that pelts down from above mixes until there is no separation. All the runners that swarm around me pound the ground in rhythm, displacing puddle water, creating a tremor of energy that fuels all our dreams, our goals. When I close my eyes all I hear is the pattering of feet and rain and a chorus of determined breathing like that of ocean waves crashing on rocks, and I feel we are one with the power and peacefulness of the sea. Suddenly I recognize that we are all here to chase one vision.
And when I see the finish line I understand that vision: nothing is impossible.
Carol is a graduate of UBC Vancouver’s film production program and works at lululemon Kelowna. She enjoys biking, yoga, running, photography, painting and writing. Her goals include completing a full marathon by March 2011, completing her yoga teacher training by May 2011, and getting one of her feature length films on the big screen by 2015.
Ninjas got nothing on me.
