Running, Running.

You don't have to carry the weight of what you aren't.

As sixth grade began, it wasn’t unusual to find me lying on my bedroom floor on Thursday night, eyes staring as the ceiling fan went round and round. My calendar glared at me with the same two words, scribbled in red pen: MILE RUN. 

Every Friday, our P.E. teachers wanted us to run one mile in under 15 minutes. As a kid, I’d tried to learn how to ride a bike, but ultimately, I lost the skill faster than I learned it. I’d taken swimming lessons too, but never made it past learning breaststroke. With this track record in mind, my imagination went into overdrive. Maybe I’d trip and be teased, or maybe I would be too slow and be scolded by my teacher. I was so afraid that everyone would be running faster than me. I was so afraid of being left behind. 

I was used to finding competition in every corner—why even run if you’re not going to win the race? On those nights where my thoughts would get noisy, pounding at the confines of my skull, I had to remind myself that worrying wouldn’t fix my problems. Each Friday, I’d defeatedly tie my sneakers, trudging my feet to the track. I’d prepare myself for the loud shrill of the whistle, and I’d run. One day, during the final stretch, I saw my friends waiting and cheering me on. They didn’t care about how long it took me, a sobering reminder that my fears were far from reality.

I witnessed my peers and I develop from kids who only knew what our parents taught us into teenagers with our own goals and complexities. This allowed me to shift from seeing people as competitors to seeing people as the deeply passionate and motivated individuals that they are. Eventually, seeing others this way would teach me to see myself that way too.

As I watched the people around me grow, I realized that I, too, was growing. One of my favorite poets, Mary Oliver, in her poem “Wild Geese,” tells me, “You do not have to walk on your knees / for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.” Resenting myself was not necessary. I didn’t have to carry the weight of what I wasn’t; instead, I could strengthen what I already was.

Beyond that, my hobbies as a child became my passions as a teenager: My endless contemplation on the brain and behavior cultivated a deep interest in psychology. The stories I wrote as a kid turned into these personal essays that I publish online. I realized that everyone runs a different, unique race. In fact, even calling life a race implied that I could win it or lose it. I now know that I am not falling behind. Instead, I am creating my own course.

While I don’t look back fondly on the anguish one mile caused me, I do find a sense of comfort in the success story it represents. It taught me that it’s imperative to just do things, even if they’re difficult. Even if I do not succeed, there is a value in having done the thing at all. In high school, I have chosen to live life on my own terms, finding comfort in my passions. Even when I learned to love running again last summer, my mile time didn’t change much from what it was in middle school. But now, I’m not as nervous about it. I run, and I remember the days when it felt like my life had to be a race. As my feet hit the ground and the breeze filters through my hair, I think that, instead, maybe life is a winding path with countless detours. And maybe, the point is not to win the race. Maybe, the point is to take your time, to pave the road as you go, and most importantly, to just keep moving.

Evening, St. Kilda Road, Clarice Beckett (circa 1930)

Good Things:

• The song that largely inspired me to write this essay (lyrics!)

• D-Day by Agust D. I love this guy. I genuinely feel like he outdoes himself on every album… might write a little review of it on here sometime!

• Beef on Netflix. Absolutely incredible!

• Kitchen by Banana Yoshimoto. I finished this and have been planning to write a MMC about it!

• Ada Limón is the first U.S. poet laureate appointed to a two-year second term!! She wrote a poem that is going to be sent to one of Jupiter’s moons!!

• I committed to college. :)

I wrote this essay for my applications, and it continues to be one of my favorite things I’ve written. I’ve been wanting to share it since November. Finally, I can! Spring is always difficult in terms of motivation to do things other than what’s strictly required of me, but I promise the newsletter will come back! Thank you for reading.

Love, 

Aarushi.