Why We Run #27: To Break Heartbreak

I ran, because I wasn’t going to let heartbreak get me down.

——

The Good Men Project Sports asked why we run.

In this feature series, we share your answers.

This is from La Shawn Pagán:

It was 2009 and I was heartbroken. In the wake of this horrible and crippling heartbreak, I decided that I wasn’t going to let it knock me down. I’ve never been known for crying, nor was I about to start being known for it, so the best way I knew how to deal with the wave of overwhelming emotions was to focus all my energy into achieving something. And that was to enlist in the U.S. Marines.

I’ve always been a “Daddy’s girl” not in a way that I was his little princess that he needed to protect – no, it was more in a way that I wanted to learn how to do everything he knew how to do. As a child I would follow him around and help him do things around the house, and help him fix the car. Wanting to be just like my Dad meant that I also had to serve my country like he did; in the military.

Although I was overweight as a child, throughout my adult life I had been regularly active. One of the ways of being active was by running – but I wasn’t faithful to it. It was a sort of on again/off again relationships between the road and I. I didn’t mind, it was a process I knew I needed to go through. Something I needed to discover a deeper love for. Like learning how to properly cook and eat an artichoke. I needed to find the heart of it.

After that aforementioned heartbreak I decided to dedicate myself to becoming a top runner. Since my goal was to reach a certain weight class to enlist, I had to be faithful to my running. So, like any obsessive compulsive (or deeply dedicated) person does, I created a schedule that I wouldn’t deviate from no matter what: 5:45a.m. rise, at the track by six back home by 6:30am where I’d make sure to do abdominal workout and stretch, then get ready for work – regardless of how the day went, I made sure I was asleep by 10:00p.m., I wouldn’t even answer any phone calls after 9:30p.m., unless it was a family member calling me. It was all with a purpose to achieving this weight goal so I can leave as quickly as possible. So I can forget about this pain, this disgusting heartbreak that was slowly killing me inside.

The “goal” runs were different. They were fueled by something else, something dark. They were so angry. At the time however, I didn’t know it. I kept on pushing myself, because I was focused on my desire to get away from it all – I didn’t notice what I was doing to myself physically. I wanted to be in the Marines so badly, to get away from all the pain, confusion, insecurity that I was feeling, and running through that time was how I did that. I was trying to run away from all of that heaviness. So much so, I reached and passed the 7-mile a minute mark. I was able to complete one mile in a little under seven minutes. Which could be seen as comical because I’m short (5’1”), so my legs are short and stout – pretty much imagine a Corgi dog running like a greyhound, it’s impressive and hilarious all at once.

Even though I began to hear clicking from my knees, I still ran and completed half a marathon and a half marathon. It was after one of these competitions that I began doing something different with my running.

It was a Tuesday morning in Puerto Rico and instead of heading towards the right when I left my house, I turned left. As Vivaldi’s Four Seasons willed by still asleep body (I was still following that strict schedule) I took a deep breath and felt a difference in my step and controlled my breathing a bit more easily. Turning one klick (about 100 meters) from my house, passing an open field, a horse ranch, a church and a small forest I was embraced by the most wonderful, peaceful scent of tropical flowers – in mid-run I smiled, and continued doing so as I completed a five mile run.

It was the first time that I smiled while running. Ever. Since that day I ran at a slower pace and enjoyed my times out, sometimes I would even go without my MP3 player, just focusing on my breath and the sound of my feet hitting the pavement. It was the best sound in the morning.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but I evolved from running away from pain, to running towards peace. Every running session was more peaceful than the one before. I began meditating during those miles. Reaching a deeper spirituality I hadn’t allowed myself to reach before. Then it happened. My anger-fueled running crept up on my happiness. Because I didn’t deal with those emotions the way one should do, allowing yourself to feel them, in the raw and have them pass through your system and come out through your pores like droplets of a fever-sweat. I was crippled by my refusal to deal. My anger caused me to almost break my knees. It was another heartbreak that I had to endure – at a standstill this time.

The most painful feeling is that of your kneecaps stressed to the brink of shattering into a million shards – even more painful is not being able to walk, much less run anywhere. I was forced to face my demons. Forced to face the pain, and now the double heartbreak, along with the physical pain I caused myself for being so careless with my health. It would be months before I could walk unassisted by a cane.

Before my injuries, I ran as a way of staying active. Then, it was a way for me to quiet my inner demons, a way to escape from pain, finally evolving to an achievement of peace. For years it seemed I was running towards nothing, just moving forward for 10miles a day, every day – thinking it would be enough distance between anger, suffering and me.

After my injuries, I was at a loss. I was desperately looking for something that propelled me at a certain speed in a forward motion; cycling, roller skating (yes, the old school kind with the four wheels and lace up boots), driving long distances. But I was still escaping, and my knees were letting me know what I was doing. So, after fighting the obvious, I let myself face the darkness I was running away from. It was ugly…but not for long.

It has been almost five years since I was able to run. I’ve tried here and there, but I always ended up hurting myself again. Then, I found it. I found peace once again.

It was under the ocean waters. When I was a child I would spend every day at the beach. I’d be swimming, diving, splashing so much that my parents would call me a little fish. Those were the happiest moments in my life. It was like coming back home from a long hike through some ugly and dark woods. It was as if I came home to blue clear waters, the soothing sound of nature in all its strength and beauty.

I swam, listening to the sound my breath made as it traveled through the snorkel tube toward the surface. Stopping in mid swim to look at the beauty of life under the waters, all the colors, all the shapes, all the wonders, I was positively infected by the energy of those corals. I was so happy I forgot I was under the water and almost began laughing. My reminder was a water bubble on goggles and a fish swimming by.

It was at that very moment that I realized where I had been running towards all this time. I was trying to come back home to the ocean, where life is better where it’s wetter.

——

For The Good Men Project Sports’ Why We Run feature, we are looking to collect YOUR comments, posts, Tweets, and emails that answer the questions: Why do you run? What are you running from? What are you running towards (if anything)?

Please send us your submission via email to myself at mkasdan@gmail.com or via Twitter @michaelkasdan #WhyWeRunGMP and #GMPSports. Submission can also be made through the below comments section or or on our Facebook page.

——

#26: Divorce Therapy <<

Join our Good Men Project Sports Facebook page.

And, if you like that, you might want a daily dose of Good Men Project awesomeness delivered straight to your inbox. Once a day or once a week for Good Men Project, or sign up for our once a week GMP Best of Sports email newsletter, your choice. Join the mailing list here.

Photo: Courtesy of author