Unlike most of my fellow Americans who will be indulging in the joys of rotten candy corn, the smell of rubber masks, and the hazardous crossing of numerous lawns and dark streets to unknown homes and offering an ultimatum to its inhabitants—I will be going for a bit of a run, an eight-mile run to be exact. An eight-mile run through the local neighborhood filled with demonic clowns lurching in tall trees now illuminated by the glow of flaming pumpkins and twinkling starlight.
Rising from my typical afternoon nap at around 4:30 PM, my planned run seemed like an acceptable course of action for tonight's festivities. With a twist and a grinding of vertebrae, I pulled myself from my slumber, greeted the dog in the hall, and headed to the toilet where I intended to stretch my glutes. Standard procedure in this neck of the woods I can assure you.
Fumbling around in the kitchen cupboards, I found a jar of organic honey. Slurping this fantastic and viscous substance from a tablespoon makes me ponder the accuracy of the word “organic” on the yellow crusted jar that has now properly soiled my right hand. Shouldn't all honey be organic? I can think of no greater crime against nature than to spoil one of the most nutrient-rich substances man has ever known. Leave it to people to take something so perfect and pure and turn it into a muddled mess of agendas and misconceptions. Although, I guess one could argue that if you were in possession of a vendetta against the livelihood of the honey bee, consciously tampering with the purity of its art would be a fine way to stick it to those furry freaks.
“Leave it to people to take something so perfect and pure and turn it into a muddled mess of agendas and misconceptions.”
Now that I had juiced up on energy, I sought substance. Returning the jar to its circular position in the cupboard, I turned to the fridge. The jagged surfaces of my molars bathed in stale pasta, donuts, murky Jell-O shots, and anything else I could get my sticky hands on. Topping off the sudden intake was a handful of cereal for balance because balance is what we all crave isn’t it? The crunch of stale pieces of corn and wheat reminded me that I needed to feed the dog before I left.
Looking at the clock which now read 5:15 PM, I decided that the time had come; it's time to sock up. However, I couldn't find any socks, they were all gone. There was a silence in the room now, a silence so palpable I felt like I was swimming in a fish tank filled with molasses. I knew what had to be done. Without hesitation I made my way over to the laundry basket and with the force of a fishing bear, I penetrated the surface of damp cotton with my clenched fist. The power of realizing that I was now the embodiment of the metal claw that had taken so much of my spare change as a child went straight to my head. I was going to be a winner this time.
Pulling out an ambiguous assortment of socks and undergarments, I decided the job was accomplished. Dropping the pile at my feet, I grabbed the first two socks I saw. I didn't matter to me whether or not they matched or if they were even mine. There was little time to waste on this frantic evening. I had to get out there to the streets where so many were already traveling in search of excitement. With a quick sniff test and a nod...I socked up, laced up, and headed for the door. The dog shot a look at me before I left and it left me feeling quite uneasy. What could he think of me? Will this bipedal beast with hurried expressions and mucous still in his eyes come back alive? Will he fall to the energy of masked children and metal machines with incandescent eyes? With the turn of the key, my fate was sealed. I hurried down the stairs and begin my pre-workout routine on the wet grass in front of the complex.
The first strides of a run are always the hardest for me. My feet hurt, my lungs tense up, and my spine quivers at the task ahead. This night of running began no differently. The ground was there and I had no inner quarrels about committing this sane act of violence. "Perhaps I should have dressed up tonight," I thought to myself. I could have been a jogging zombie, a fleeing criminal, or a crazed lunatic trying to satisfy some internal need to explore space and time from an introverted perspective. Then it hit me. In the fading light of the day, I realized that perhaps I was dressed for the occasion.
“Incognito and proud” I shouted excitedly. Hell, that could be a t-shirt line right there. It'll make millions.
Feeling elated and self-assured I surged to my cruising pace with absolute confidence. I paid no attention to the grumbling mixture in my belly. I am a runner. Weakness and pain are my muse and only I will dictate the outcome of this journey.
Conquering the first straight away, I catch the groups of people scattered on the streets in my peripherals. Families huddled closely together in the darkness blurred together as I pass them. The smell of chocolate fused with the aromas of caramel and taffy filled my nasal cavities as I swallowed the mucus gathering at the base of my esophagus. I pass a group of scantily clad adolescent females who appeared as very large giggling birds in search of a nesting place as I turned the bend and made my way up the hill. Kids sitting on the curb counting their loot at the second turn croaked like excited amphibians as I pick up my pace, feeling confident in my surroundings. I decimate a tootsie pop under my pounding feet, feeling the shattering explosion reverberate at a thousand frames per second throughout my skeletal structure.
Turning onto the main street I pass a vacant pumpkin farm, still open for business it seems although I don't think anyone would be purchasing a pumpkin right now. Tasting the wet heavy hay on my tongue I get the signal from my GPS device that I have just completed mile three. Victory seems the only outcome.
I've never been one who has embraced the power of having an audience, but tonight was different. Tonight it seems that I was amongst my people. Their presence alone validated all my efforts as I crossed each segmented concrete slab. It’s the contrast in motivation that drives me. Our costumes were merely an expression of our energy and our willingness to embrace the void before us. Conquering the limitations of life was our goal and nothing was going to get in our way.
Then it happened.
It all came crashing down. The bubbling pit of tar in my belly has had enough. As I passed mile five I knew that I had to get home and to safe quarters. However, the journey would be a true test of grit and mental fortitude. Home was a mile away and defeat was knocking on the back door in the worse way. Clenching my teeth I knew that I had to focus on my form.
Arms, ninety-degree angle!
Ankles, relaxed!
Feet, strike with that bloody midfoot!
In through your nose!
Out through your mouth!
Surely this was the only way out of this mess. Indeed, I was making progress as I finished the first 400 meters. However, unfortunately for me, I was going against the flow of the herd. I attempted to side step and swiftly make my way around the sugar coated travelers, now secreting fructose from their pores, but there were too many of them. I leaped over the curb and into the street, narrowly dodging a passing car causing me to stumble and lose my footing.
Attempting to make my fall as graceful as possible I aimed for the bushes. Landing wasn't a problem for I cared not for the creatures that may have inhabited its shadowy insides. I was safe for the time being. Coarse grains of dirt stuck to my hands as I positioned myself for ascension. Thoughts of release crossed my mind and in this moment of weakness my body responded in full force.
“J K” I shouted out loud, scared for my life and fearing the approaching disaster.
This can't happen, not like this...it wasn’t supposed to happen like this. This was supposed to be my night, my night of glory, but here I am, about to fertilize the city's vegetation with my own homemade fertilizer. Please don't like them see me like this! The poor kids deserve to have their Halloween memories unsoiled. The image of a grown man relieving himself on some ominous bush would surely cause them such irreparable harm as to warrant a life time's worth of psychotherapy.
This can't happen. This will not happen.
Somewhere off in the distance I could hear the chirping of feathered creatures scampering about. Reaching deep inside my own volition, I picked myself up. This starry night will remain unsoiled. Sitting on my heels in a moment of reflection I felt the pressure return to my abdomen. Now! Now is the time! Strike!
Exploding from this position I found myself sprinting faster than I ever have previously in my life. There were only 200 meters to go. I didn't think. I didn't breath. All that was left was primal instinct. I didn't need anything but the blood in my veins and the great device that kept it flowing. With each step, I could feel my toes expanding and compressing, digging for leverage in each stride as I closed in on 100 meters. On the last turn, I hurdled a crossing toddler dressed as batman. A woman screamed from behind me.
“On the last turn, I hurdled a crossing toddler dressed as batman. A woman screamed from behind me.”
Have no fear. I am not a villain. I am no bane. Your son will grow up a fine gentleman I can assure you.
The moments leading up to the sounds of rushing water and buzzing ceiling fans are too blurry to recall. I can only see flashes of images; keys dropping by a door, a dog whimpering from beneath a table, a picture of a baby in a manger, and a hand riddled with dirt and torn pieces of toilet paper.
As I stood there later in the shower rinsing the bad vibes from the evening's run, I couldn't help but think of myself as a younger lad, prancing about dressed as a vampire or ghoul or pirate out there in the dark, collecting candy and anything else I could get my hands on. It suddenly all came together.
I knew at that moment, that I was on the right course and that my journey will change who I was forever. I was a runner. I was an expression of energy and thought. I was a life in motion. I was a human ready for the perils of victory and defeat. As I lapped the rushing water from the shower head, I wondered how my next Halloween outing would turn out.