Us human types are always on
the run. As an African, I learned to run before I could walk - it's the
only way to dodge the lions and hippos and the tokalosh.
And then you get older and
you learn how to run away from the wooden spoon [after you've taught a toddler
to pee in your sibling's dustbin on a daily basis (unfortunately I was the
sibling with the dustbin)]. You learn to run to the smart kid who always does
the homework while running away from the teacher who knows you have not. You
learn to run away from bullies. From darkness. From dodgy looking people. From hijackers.
From big spiders. From the tax man. From commitment.
Us human folk run away from
our fears. And as a result, some people learn to run very far and very fast.
Some don’t ever stop running. But they don’t normally run to anything in
particular. Except maybe the bar (which isn’t necessarily a bad thing – I’m
writing this at a bar and it’s quite a lovely place really and it has free wifi
and a beach and human life and everything)
I like to think that everyone
suffers from stupid irrational fears. I enjoy pretending to be hardcore, but underneath
my goofy smile lies a terrified bundle of nervations ready to implode.
My fear of a boring life has
kept me running circles round the globe for years. It’s also birthed new fears:
sharks, dragons, plane crashes, human traffickers, sinking ships and
Australians.
My fear of tomatoes has terrified
me the most and led me to Le Tomatino in Spain
Granted some people claim to
run for fun. But this is a lie because A) running just isn’t that fun and B)
they're actually just running away from unfitness and unwanted body fat. There's
always something chasing us.
Instead of running, what
would happen if we just sat down and learned to speak lion?
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