I learned how to run the mile back in high school. Four laps around the track. I remember the feeling. Sometimes terrifying, sometimes exhilarating.
For training we used to run the ‘big block’: six miles out in the country, past the apple and peach orchards of southwestern Michigan and back into town. Sometimes we’d run the ‘little block’. That was out around Bettis Hill and back. Just depended on the coach, whatever he thought we needed.
But the point is, out there running through the countryside I would sometimes feel the runner’s high, the elation. It’s like when you get ‘in shape’ and feel like you can run forever, like you’re riding a horse, a powerful swift horse and the horse is your breath. Just breathe and go. True elation. I never forgot that feeling.
That’s why I ride my bike. Same thing. I don’t run anymore, but if you ride hard enough you’ll get there.
Here’s Sifan Hassan busting the world record in the mile in 2019.
She starts off in the back, taking her time, letting others set the pace, then slowly moves up as she finds her rhythm.
She settles in third place and waits, getting up to speed. On the third lap the pace setter falls out and she pulls ahead. On the final lap she blasts off and sprints to the finish line, winning by 80 yards over the second place runner. Her time is a 4:12:33, half a second faster than any woman has ever run the mile before.
She screams with delight. Someone gives her a bouquet of flowers which she throws into the stands. She collapses on the track, panting and laughing at the same time, clapping her hands. Someone helps her up and she celebrates with her fellow runners, hugs them, hugs her coach in the stands, poses next to her new world record on the timing board.
Wow. That’s elation.
Here’s some elation. Mama Africa.
Chico César is a Brazilian musician singing about Mama Africa.
Mother Africa, where we all come from. Source of the rhythms, the languages, the skill set of our tribe; the humans.
Dig y eh?
Hearth of our heartfelt aspirations, birthplace of our great ideas: to stand up straight and walk on two feet, to look at the sky and dream of flying, to wander all over the place and discover the world.
Elation was our birthright and our guiding light and our destination.
Oh me ah my ah moy.
And yet in the depths of the human psyche, there is also room for violence and horror. There is also nihilism and despair. It occurs like a recurring dream, like an eclipse of the sun or, more accurately, like the coming of night; it comes with irresistible regularity and over comes us. We succumb. It seems so. Like a seduction. War and hate and petty divisions. All negatives that negate us and the beauty of our existence.
Sometimes I don’t feel elation. Sometimes I feel despair. It’s true But that brings up a question Is happiness a choice? Can I feel as elated as I choose to be? Can I rise up like a bird flying in the sky or must I fall like a leaf swirling in the wind, subject to the currents of the air?
It’s an important question because it goes to the core of the issue. The fate of an individual is related to the fate of the society or civilization that they live in. It’s just a question of scale.
But also comes the light, with unremitting regularity and the whole land is lit. Every open eye is filled. We see and we know. We say ‘good morning’.
Check out Redbone. The first Native American band to score a major hit on the charts.
‘Cmon and find it pretty baby’ they sing, It’s so divine. Come and get your love. Get it from the mainline’.
I get it.
I got it.
elation