I wrote this in 2008. I'd hoped to have it published in Runners World or Marathon & Beyond. M & B did eventually publish an article that I wrote about the environment, but the final product was very different from this original. I still like this one a whole heck of a lot. Incidentally, I can't run like this anymore. But some day, I'll be back.
It’s 4:10 AM Sunday morning, and I roll out of bed and begin to get ready for my long run. I know that I should probably take it easy after yesterday’s hot 10K, but I’m weird like that. I have another race next weekend; if I don’t get my long run in now, when would I? And the early morning thing? I’m weird like that too. I like to have the run done early so I can lead a nearly normal life for the rest of the day. I like to beat the traffic; I’ll have the roads mostly to myself for most of the run. Mostly, I like to beat the heat by running early; I don’t do well when it’s hot. Today was predicted to be another scorcher. Also on this day, I want to do some running while it’s still dark in order to catch a glimpse of some shooting stars; the annual Perseid Meteor shower is nearly peaking.
By 5:00 AM, I’m out running. I exit my subdivision and head towards the darker semi-country roads, looking up as much as possible. Compared to the daytime temperatures we’ve had, this morning feels fairly cool. I see the Pleiades star cluster in the sky, and then I look towards the east-southeast and see the Constellation Orion rising. It’s been another long, hot summer in this part of the world. I occasionally have a totally irrational fear that summer will never end. I’m (really) weird like that. The tropics are just fine, thank you, but I want them to stay where they are. Seeing Orion rising signals that autumn, with its cooler temperatures, is not too far off. This somehow reassures me a bit, as it does every August when I see it rise for the first time. It also gets me thinking.
Climatologists inform us that short-term weather patterns in any particular part of the world cannot be attributed directly to the climate-changing event also known as global warming. To say that the heat here in Ohio today, this week, or even this year, is due to global warming, is a non sequitur. Yet, when the scientists say that recent years rank as the hottest the earth has seen since records have been kept, it still manages to scare me into thinking that the warm spell here on my corner of the world is part of the overall mess. I’m weird like that. Like the frog that stays in the water that is gradually heated up versus the one that hops right back out when placed in already hot water, we often don’t notice the changes. I feel like I do, however. Maybe I’ve just been rambling around this planet for too many decades. Its summer, some say: it’s supposed to be hot. Yes, I reply, but not this hot, for this long, and without a break since early spring.
At 5:40 AM it’s beginning to get lighter. I haven’t seen a single meteor. It seems like I see them at times when they’re not expected, and not when they are. Soon I head through a heavily wooded area where I’m usually bombarded by deerflies. Today they’re not so bad, perhaps because it’s still fairly dark, or perhaps they’re laying low because of the summer heat.
Around 6:40 AM I arrive back home for a pit stop: energy-gel, water and a bathroom break. Those first 11 miles were very slow. My ‘ole legs were having a tough time getting back into it after yesterday’s race. I decide to head circuitously over to the track where I can more closely monitor my pace in order to pick it up a bit. It’s light out, and it’s getting warmer, as I begin running again.
At 7:00 AM the sun is rising, and it’s warmer still. For some reason, I begin considering my own impact on the planet. The predominant scientific view is that human activity is the cause of climate change, and I accept this. I understand that just by running, I’m producing more carbon dioxide than I would be if I had just slept in like a normal person. More importantly, by living my typical American lifestyle, I produce far more global warming gasses than the individual people of any other country. My family and I have made some small changes to reduce our impact, but there is certainly much more that we can and should do. Eliminating the running activity isn’t one of them.
By 7:30 AM I’ve made another pit stop and am ready to hit the track. A hawk screeches in the distance. It feels hot, but I know it could be much worse. Almost as if by magic, I pick the pace up. I’m weird like that. Even so, I’m not running quite as fast as I’d like. I’d wanted to be running at planned marathon pace at this point, and that’s just not happening. I manage 3 miles here before I head back home again.
I’m grateful that the track is east of my house as I run with the hot sun at my back instead of in my face. I think of how it can’t be just individual choices to change the world; we need political will and leadership here as well. We need to work individually, yes, but also as a nation and as a member (even a leader) of the global community to solve this problem. I think about the many ways we are adding to the problem rather than working to correct it, and how this issue isn’t even a political or controversial one in other (more) civilized countries; they are simply progressively making the necessary changes. Here’s what troubles me most of all: when the subject occasionally arises, I cannot even manage to convince my close running friends or others that this issue needs immediate attention, such that we should take action with our votes. We all see the world from different viewpoints, and perhaps mine is weird like that more than most. But if I can’t change even these few minds, how in the world is the rest of the country ever going to come around?
Now it’s 8:20 AM and I’ve arrived back home. It’s been a pretty decent long run – 22 miles in all. The sun is higher in the sky. The “scorcher” prediction is coming true; it’s really hot now.
No comments:
Post a Comment