We Are the Show

Steve Prefontaine, often called Pre, was one of America’s top runners in the mid-70s. He had a style all his own – brash, gutsy, outspoken. Unfortunately he died in a car crash at 24 – the world will never know what he might have been able to do. Even in his short career he changed running.

One of Pre’s quote is this: “Some people create with words or with music or with a brush and paints. I like to make something beautiful when I run. I like to make people stop and say, 'I've never seen anyone run like that before.' It's more than just a race, it's a style. It's doing something better than anyone else.
It's being creative." If you’re ever seen footage of Pre racing, it’s true.

I’ve heard Michael Jordan, one of the world’s greatest basketball players ever, say something similar. That when we walks out onto a court, into a stadium, one of the things he wants to do is play as well and as hard as he can. There might be one person in the stadium whose only change to see him play was that day, and he wanted them to see what basketball could be like.

Jordan and Pre knew their talent and skills. They weren’t playing to show off their skills, they were playing to put on a show. Not a show of fancy, but of themselves, of their sport; playing to use all their skills and hours of practice to make art. When athletes like this play in this way is often when we’re most inspired and Jordan and Pre are two extraordinary examples of this.

Most of us will never have the audience or spotlight professional athletes do, yet our running can be just as much art and inspiration as Jordan or Pre. Our audience might be kids, or co-workers, or a spectator who is inspired by our efforts. I remember driving on a freeway and seeing a stream of women walking on a nearby road, it was the 3-Day walk for the Cure. I was moved by the effort these women were making, I’m sure most of them stretching themselves to walk 60 miles in 3 days. Jordan and Pre made a conscious choice of how to play. We can make a similar choice or not, but regardless what we do as athletes is often inspiring. It’s our show.

5:20am

This morning I awoke at 5:20am as my alarm went off, not a normal time for me.  I lay awake for a moment with the question I’d had before and I’m sure others encounter – why should I get up, the bed is so warm, it’s cold out there. Oddly it lastly only a short bit before I slid out from under the covers and began the rituals of preparing for a run. Somehow that seemed perfect even under the question. I’m not sure I ever answered the question of why – why should I keep up or why not stay in bed. It doesn’t even matter, but I’m glad I did.

It was still dark when I began running around 6am. There were few stars since the clouds still hung from last night. The only significant light was a far-off pink glow from Denver. I’ve done plenty of cycling at night and thoroughly enjoy the quiet and the new energies that fill the body and land. It’s been a while, so it took a few minutes to get used to the darkness and the wonder and energy it holds.

What I noticed most was how quickly I noticed my other senses with sight being greatly attenuated. I noticed this a couple weeks ago when I tried running with my eyes closed with a friend. Sounds were acute in the still, cold morning air – the woodpecker, my feet gracing the road, the ease of my breath, the whinny of a horse perhaps saying good morning or take me with you, the echoes of the train whistle through Boulder valley. I even heard a group of 3 runners perhaps a mile before I ever crossed paths with them. Every sound was so clear and full. I could feel the chill on my face, and the slight breeze pushing through my jacket onto my arms. Farm smells that wafted from the fields to touch my nose and then gone again.

Slowly the morning light came and just as slowly colors came into being. First the browns and deep reds, then the yellows and greens, all the while every color becoming fuller. The sun started to show itself about 6:50. What a crazy, beautiful array of colors – lots of pinks and oranges. The sun peeked over the horizon, then slipped behind some clouds and appeared again over the eastern horizon of Colorado to warm the day.

One of the most unusual and satisfying experiences of the dark morning run was feeling like I was part of the morning, part of the dawning of a new day in this part of the world. Not just someone who wakes with light already here, but part of the change. That’s part of life – isn’t it. Being part of this world, being human, being here. Being part of the change and growth of this amazing place we call earth. A great reminder for the day!