I started running at ten. Track and cross country — I was a kid who ran.
When I quit the sport, I quit more than the sport. No guidance, the wrong crowd, raves. Weed early, then harder things, then drinking that followed me into my forties. I quit, started again, quit again, and finally came to grips with what was underneath all of it. I’ve been clean three years. That’s the last I’ll mention it — but it’s why everything else here is true.
Running never left. Through all of it — the eight years I didn’t run around college, the winters I always quit, the decade of cigarettes (gone ten years now) — it kept coming back. Somewhere in there I learned my head runs different: ADHD, major depressive disorder. For years running was the medicine before I knew it was medicine.
My running, stated plainly: I’m closing in on fifty. My longest run is 16 miles. I love the 5K — that’s my race right now. When I earn a 5K time I’m proud of, I’ll move up to the 10K, and so on — longer, slower. I’m not fast and I’m not pretending to be. This is a man’s journey, not a highlight reel.
This winter is the first one I don’t quit.
Graval is for anyone — new or old, fast or slow, starting over or starting late. It’s about what running is for people. What it is for me: the thing that kept showing up until I did.
keep showing up.