Even now when I think about what heaven ought to be like, the image that comes to mind is not a writers’ heaven. Not a library or a book paradise. It’s me sitting under the huge oak tree on the grassy bank that marked off the sports field, lacing up my running shoes. Running was my way of exorcizing bleakness.
~ Arundhati Roy, Mother Mary Comes to Me
Today, I ran outdoors for the first time in more than two years. I had been hatching this plan to run outside for over a year because the last time I ran outdoors, an auto driver had driven upto me and had made sure I see him jerking off to me, made sure I saw what was in his hand. That day and at that time I ran the hardest, the fastest while trying to keep myself from throwing up. Later I would think and ask myself why hadn't I taken out my camera and shamed him, recorded him or called around for help. Why did I run? I have been running away from the idea of running outdoors ever since. That moment snatched all the joy from running, all my confidence. The memory etched itself into everything—it would creep up on me on random days and at random times. I had reached out to friends, and they would sympathise with me but also tell me about similar situations with happened with them and that would give me even more anxiety because it meant the chances of it happening with me again were probable.
Vowing to myself seriously this time to step out and run, I woke up insanely early at 3 am with a beating heart. I stepped out with stifled breathing and into a park and I ran. I ran through all the rage and all the discomfort. And even though this was a small personal victory to me, I still sit with the anger and discomfort of losing so much of my mental peace to a stupid man. But I also realised that running wasn't the only thing I had been avoiding; I had been avoiding a lot of things just to keep the discomfort they carried with them at bay. Perhaps for the first time I accepted that living (and sometimes overcoming) discomfort is something I would have to learn to do. Better to make friends with this discomfort rather than it creeping up and watching me from silent, dark corners of memory.
And so I ran with my discomfort today, hoping that someday I will run farther away, leaving it way, way behind me.