Born to run

[vaneramos]

Photo: alley door.

~~~~~~~~~~

Biologist Dennis Bramble: "Have you ever looked at an ape? They have no buns." He argues the quintessential step of human evolution from apes was that point at which we gained the ability to run. It involved the development of a special feature, the nuchal ridge at the base of our skulls, to hold our heads steady while we bound along, also long legs, strong buttocks, and the reduction of body hair so sweat could evaporate freely. Early humans sacrificed their tree-climbing capability for increased speed and stamina, outstripping dogs and even some horses. They needed to do so in order to hunt and scavenge meat, providing more protein, a necessary dietary precursor to the evolution of the modern brain.

As a boy I was not much good at sports or athletics, but I could run fast. Many of my happiest childhood memories involve running, not drawn out cardiovascular exercise, but quick, euphoric sprints. Sometimes it was a catharsis, burning off frustration or anxiety. I can even remember running on toddler legs through the soft grass between our house and the lake. It is one of my earliest memories. In my mind I can hear cicadas droning. It must have been August. There was a warm, lusty wind off the waves and I was happy.

Then there were games with our neighbours in the woodlot. Sometimes we were commandos, but more often knights with swords. Neal Manning was my best friend through late childhood and early youth. His three younger brothers provided a ready army of recruits. Sometimes their Uncle Louie would visit from Toronto, and then we would play wild games of chase. Louie was always It. The games involved a lot of hiding behind trees and over the edge of the bluff, followed by desperate flights. If he caught us he would pin us to the ground and rub grass in our faces. He was young, perhaps in his mid 20s. I was fast and slick, hard to hold onto. A stronger person might get a grip on me, but I knew instinctively how to exploit my adrenalin for an extra burst, just enough to writhe out of his hands. I only got the grass torture once. Those memories are happy, ferocious, among the most freely physical of my life. (dakoopst, are you listening?)

I spent many long childhood hours at my desk writing, drawing, creating maps of imaginary worlds. Tracey Kennedy would come to call; if I refused to emerge from my cave, she would invade and harass me until I relented. Arising, I would bound out the door and across the velvet lawn. Pell-mell, tumble bumble. Everywhere headlong. And I was always late for everything, trying to squeeze as much as I could out every moment of life. I still climb stairs two at a time.

Life flies so quickly I can never catch up long enough to do all I want to do. Maybe that's the cause of my anxiety and fear of death. Unfortunately this has the wrong effect, slowing me down for fear of making mistakes, never having time to live it right. Worrying about missing tomorrow, I let slip today.

Now my limbs have begun losing their suppleness. My hips and knees get stiff. My ankles used to be strong enough that I could stumble onto them sideways without hurting myself; now I feel the threat of a sprain. And it happens too often because I'm not used to watching my step. I have to slow down, be careful not to stumble off the edge of a sidewalk, take the basement stairs one at a time as I go down to shuffle laundry. My body raises warnings, but my mind still cries, "More! More! I want to go everywhere. Quickly. Now."

Comments

[dakoopst.livejournal.com]

Loud and clear...

*wide, evil grin*

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

*laughing lasciviously*

[dakoopst.livejournal.com]

What a wonderful word that is -- lasciviously. I love the way it falls off the tongue, causes the lips to pucker around it. It feels like its meaning...

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

Sort of like a long, drawn out version of lewdly.

[bitterlawngnome.livejournal.com]

I shouldn't say anything about your ass here, should I.

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

Just don't say I have an ape's ass.