Run with the Rhythm

Almost as soon as I arrived here, Juju started pushing me to get involved in some sort of group to get me out of the house and into the community. Not that she needed a break from me, as I'm pretty good at making myself scarce when Baby L starts making a racket; but having been an au pair herself in younger years, she feared I would feel isolated from spending weekdays alone at the house while the parents and boys were at work and school.

I rebelled a bit at first, feeling shy about my strange Anglo-Quebecer French (for which I occasionally get teased) and preferring, anyway, to savor my own moments of discovery on the trails and roads that surround the house. A month and a half of solitary wandering was about as much as I could take, though, and after a week of homesickness I decided to join up with the town running group.

Bright and early this morning, after shuttling Big L to his dentist appointment, Juju dropped me off at the runners' meeting point and I fell in with the group of 40+ year-olds for an hour-long run. Once I realized my initial worries that people wouldn't like me, 1) because I'm not French or 2) because I'm younger than they are, were unfounded, I found the group atmosphere refreshing and encouraging. The entertaining banter, positive attitude and friendly competition to win occasional "sprint rallies" reminded me of what I'd been missing in all my solo adventures.

I was already reveling in the pleasure of being a team member when I noticed one more thing that you can't reproduce when you're running on your own: rhythm. After 10 kilometres of muddy trail running, we finally found ourselves on a paved road, jogging our way back to the starting point. I was in the lead group and we had all ceased being chatty after the last exhausting sprint. Our thoughts turned inward, we were silent except for the steady inhale-exhale of our breath. I was thinking about how hungry I'd become and what I would like to eat when I got home, when suddenly I heard it - thump, thump, thump, thump, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. Steady and in sync, our group had fallen into step and into breath and we were making a meditative music with the rhythm of our running.

I was only tuned into the rhythm for a few minutes before my thoughts turned back to snacking and getting myself up the last endless hill; but the moment gave me such a feeling of Runner's High that I made a mental note to blog about it this evening. At that moment I also felt a connection with my fellow runners. Despite our different backgrounds and ages and interests, for a few minutes we were all doing the exact same motion at the exact same time - we were practically one, or at least, for the non-spiritual, we were all making one sound. Who knows if we'll be able to recreate the rhythm the next time we run, or if it will be with the same people. One thing I do know, is that I'm hooked on this group and will be making a weekly activity of running with the "oldies."