I was always afraid to competitively run, I was afraid that I would be the slowest or afraid that my body wouldn’t be able to handle the rigorous training that went into cross country or track. I’ve always been a shy girl who had dreams, who’s was afraid to take risks because there was a fifty percent chance of things being successful and a fifty percent chance of them being unsuccessful. The girl who was too afraid to jump into the endless pitch black pool, afraid of the unknown.
For a long time I kept to myself and even though I voiced my opinions and thoughts very strongly, there were times that I should’ve spoken up, times where I should’ve ventured out and taken risks. During junior year was when I was severely affected by not voicing my thoughts; around the age of eleven, I began to suffer with depression that stemmed from my father’s alcoholism. I always denied my thoughts and well being that I never expressed to my parents how I felt. I continuously told myself that I was happy, that I should be happy for others around me, but not necessarily for myself. My depression continued to progress due to not receiving any form of treatment, and as it continued to progress, it became more difficult to try and mask personality changes. By sophomore year, I could recall moments where I had physically hurt myself; moments where I almost decided to end my life, moments where I had no energy left in my body, moments that were prolonged and seemed like pain didn’t exist.
At the start of my junior year, my father’s alcoholism took a turn and accelerated the way I had never seen it accelerate. After years of my father being an alcoholic, I slowly watched my father die and a man that I didn’t recognize; the man that had raised me was gone and there’s no possible way that he’ll ever return from the infinite miller high life’s that I heard pop open every hour that he was home. He had chosen alcohol over his family.
After a very toxic argument with my father in October of 2016, I went back to my habits of hurting myself and attempted to end my life one more time before finally opening up to my mother and friends about everything that I had been experiencing for years. I remember the several times that my precal teacher pointed out my self mutilations and I had mentioned that I had gotten scratched by a cat even though I don’t own a cat. Looking back at it now, I always stopped myself in the attempts of ending my life because of curiosity I had of the world, I didn’t want to end my dreams of exploring and becoming the person I had always imagined myself to be, I didn’t want to leave my family and friends in agonizing pain as they wondered why I would end my life so suddenly. Opening up was very difficult, and it was usually a process of telling my story in a series of episodes; it wasn’t something that I could do all at once.
At the start of 2017, I craved change, I wanted to challenge myself and wanted to do something that I loved. So, I began to run. Running slowly changed my life because it allowed me to gain a new perspective of life. Getting to go outdoors and run around town lake showed me new areas of downtown Austin that I had never explored before. It caused me discover what the meaning of life is and what I’m meant to do with mine. Running resparked my curiosity of the world. It made me enjoy the little things of the trail like the way the trees swayed when a breeze made its way through a ray of sun or how the ducks in the river traveled in different directions. Town lake helped me find myself, it helped re-establish my dreams that I thought had vanished from within me. How running changed my life stems from the brain releasing a hormone, endorphin, when physical activity is being performed. The endorphins allowed me to clear my head and make decisions that I was always too afraid to make; the most important one being joining cross country in the fall of my senior year, and I couldn’t be more excited for what the fall holds in terms of meets, events and challenging myself with long runs.
endlessautumndays 