The Day I Became a Runner

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Is “good enough good enough?” 

Just finished reading ‘the day I became a runner’ - an anthology of 10 lives of women athletes and their rise to stardom followed by an eventual (and sometimes crashing) decline into oblivion. I was hoping to find motivation in their stories, a reason to get out of bed in the mornings as I yawn and crawl towards my own running journey. 

But sadness was a surprising by- product of this book. In the stories I read, every athlete’s dream seemed to be to nab the lowest hanging fruit in front of them- the promise of a steady income offered by a government job. Some wished only to make it to the Olympics- winning aspirations were reserved for US, Europe and Russia they said. Interesting how dreams also have a glass ceiling. 

Most of them came from rural India. Outcast as Dalits, I read some stories of young girls who would stand outside wedding venues or temples waiting for leftovers to be doled out so their family could have one decent meal. In such a life, being a professional athlete was more than a lucid dream- it was a fair shot at a possible escape. Maybe most of us aren’t dreamers, just wishful thinkers. We’d rather settle with realistic hopes than swing big and miss. In a country of billions, “good enough” is a sure shot in itself. 

And yet, each story showed quiet resilience, steely pride and a sense of achievement hard to miss. Each woman eventually chose the shape their life took and in doing so, blazed the trail for other young girls in their village. 

Did I expect each of them to be a life changing feminist? YES. Did I expect to find small life lessons tucked away in the struggles of each athlete? YES. 

I was wrong only about one of these.

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