I am a runner. Sometimes I struggle to identify that way. I struggle saying “I am a runner” for a myriad of reasons–I’m over 200lbs, i’m slow & my fastest mile is only 13:52 (& that’s when i am emotional); i failed at my first ½ marathon; i run intervals (run 3 minutes; walk for 1 minute); and i HATE eating during a long run. I don’t always feel like i fit in with the running crowd & i haven’t been running that long.
For a while, i didn’t tell a lot of people what i was running towards–mainly because I thought I was going to fail at this ½ marathon thing--which i did. But also, I didn’t want people to know how weak i felt. I’ve done a weightloss journey before & for all the wrong reasons! I let a racist system and environment that referred to me as an obese Homecoming Queen get in my head and I pushed myself to lose an incredible amount of weight that changed nothing about how i felt about myself and my body! I got a breast reduction that felt more like mutilation than self-love. So this time, it wasn’t about how I looked or what size pants I could fit into, it was about my health and my self-worth.
I identify a lot with the work that I do! I take it very seriously and I want to be the best. I want to be my best and do my best. Last May, I not only felt heavy, but I felt worthless. At perhaps my most unhealthy, I couldn’t get through an activity I was facilitating during training camp for my students. I ran out of our room and crumbled in the bathroom in angst. Some time later, I went & got my hair done and my stylist mentioned that my hair was breaking off and there was a small balding spot in the back of my head. If there is a rock bottom for how I could feel about myself, I’d hit it.
I joined Planet Fitness a few weeks later & started running. I still have a screenshot from my first mile. It took me 32minutes & 8 seconds.
Since then, I have gotten faster and focused more on my holistic wellness. It may sound stupid, but I took a lot of steps to support my body, my mind, and my soul. I started listening to Steven Furtick; I changed my skincare routine; went to the freakin dentist, learned more about my poor vision from a skilled optometrist; i found mindfulness through Jessamyn Stanley’s yoga; and i ran–A LOT.
I invested in being a better runner. I got my feet scanned at an actual running store and bought the expensive shoes. I joined a running group and explored new trails in my city. I was given one of those massage guns and iced my groin pains. Once the pandemic sent us all home (& kicked me out of Planet Fitness), I ran more outside. Whether it was the hill close to my house or the nearby park, running was keeping me sane. So when I heard of Ahmaud Arbery losing his life while running, I was unhinged. But I kept running. My fastest mile (13:52) was actually May 8th as many participated in the #RunWithMaud. Maybe that’s when i should have written this blog. I sat in 5 meetings via Zoom on May 8th–sat in each one of them, camera on, wearing the the same #RunWithMaud shirt I had run in that morning, but it didn’t incite very many conversation…
I wasn’t aware of Breonna Taylor’s death until a few days later in May. On my run a few days later, I cried in the car on my way home thinking of not only myself, but the Black women who live in the two houses connected to mine. Who would come for us?
But I kept running. Running became more than training for the next race. Running was where I was most safe. I found safety and security in moving one leg in front of the other. Running was keeping me sane. Running was what I looked forward to when I had nothing left–nothing left to give, nothing left to say, nothing…
I have been running 5miles every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday in May. No matter the trauma of the day–i was usually only a day away from another run to save me. So after overconsuming the murders of Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, George Floyd and the attempt on Christian Cooper’’s life by Amy Cooper, I was looking forward to my Wednesday run.
I have been running the same route through May. For the purpose of my safety, I won’t share exactly where that is, but it’s a public park. It connects to one of the large, public colleges in my city. The route has 4 roundabouts. I run until I hit the 4th one and then I turn around. I run until I am back at the first 1 one. At the first one, I turn around again and run to the 3rd one and then run back to my car. I have thought about switching it up a lot — I could take a left or a right down one of the neighboring streets and see something different. The very moment that thought entered my mind, I thought “I can’t do that”.
I run this same route EVERY Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. I can tell you EVERYTHING about it–the car that I think someone is sleeping in, the blue bike that is locked to a pole (a new discovery from Friday–it’s now missing a wheel). I can tell you what the artist was wearing when she painted that beautiful new mural. I know which construction workers work on which site. I know what’s in the back of all the pick-up trucks parked near the construction site. I can tell you how many birds walk waddle from the park to the small pond of water about 1.5 miles into the route. I can tell you what time the bus comes and I usually see the same people–there’s an older Black couple that usually starts their walk when I am on my last ½ mile; there is a fast white woman that usually wears a bright colored bra and smiles every time she laps me and there is Black women trio who seem to have such a close relationship as they power walk and I always wonder if they are sisters or church friends or maybe in the same sorority. There’s another older Black woman that cheers me on every time she sees me jumping rope as part of my warm up. I might as well consider her “Get it, girl” encouragement part of my routine. I write all this to say, I am very aware of my surroundings because it is MY ROUTE! I live alone. I run alone. I’m Black. I’m a woman. I am very aware of my surroundings.
I run to the same playlist. It starts with Beyonce’s Homecoming–from the top. I listen to “Welcome” all the way to “Yonce.” When I get to “Yonce,” I know that I have about 2 miles left and I switch to Miley Cyrus (no one asked for your opinion here), then I switch to Graves into Gardens for the final stretch. I make it to “Available” by the time I arrive at my car and usually I am in full blown worship by now & ready to begin my day. THAT’S THE RUN I WAS LOOKING FORWARD TO LAST WEEK….
But that’s not the run I got.
I made it to the third roundabout (Bow Down was playing) and I noticed a police car–this is strange & i noticed. I noticed and I was terrified.
Why is it here? Should i turn around? Should I run pass it? What if he gets out? What if he follows me? What if he kills me? Where’s the white girl in the bright bra? Has she lapped me recently? There’s a guy on a bike–he’s moving too fast to see if anything happens.
Okay. Before you run pass him, take a quick pic of the plate just in case he gets out of the car, but keep running. Don’t stop. Run on the right side of the sidewalk so you’re not too close to him.
RUN.
¼ of a mile — take a peak back just to make sure he’s not following you.
½ of a mile – is he still back there?
¾ of a mile — i didn’t realize this route had such an incline. I can’t see him anymore. Keep running.
4th roundabout — turn around.
I can see him again–he’s still there. That’s so weird–there’s never police out here.
Don’t look at him. Keep running.
1st roundabout– turn around. I’m only going to the 3rd roundabout so i shouldn’t see him again–i’m good.
3rd roundabout — OMG! He turned around. Why is he here? Oh shoot–i have the cross the roundabout crosswalk. Oh no–i can’t walk in front of him–just let him cross. If you stop and let him cross, there are 3 other cars behind him–he won’t stop. Just hang out here in the middle until he crosses.
Oh shit! He stopped. Why’d he stop? You can’t just stop in a roundabout! There’s cars behind him–he can’t kill you in broad daylight.
Oh shit! Why’s he rolling his window down? What did I do? Do I have my license on me? Shoot–i dont have my license. He’s talking to you–take your airpod out.
“I’m sorry, what?” Don’t move an inch.
“I saw you running back there.”
“Yeah” Do not move.
“You looked at me….”
Don’t move.
“You looked like you needed something”
Do not move!
“Do you need something?”
“Do you?” Oh shit–you shouldn’t have said that. You should have just said no. That was stupid.
“I said you looked like you needed something. You looked at me. Do you need something?.”
“No”
He’s gone. Calm down. He’s gone. You’re okay. You’re okay. Calm down. Bend over. Put your hands on your knees. Breathe. He’s gone. OMG–what if he comes back. OMG–what if he comes back. Where’s your phone? Call your mom.
“Courtney, are you okay? I need you to breathe. I need you to come down, sweetie. Where are you?”
That’s the run I got. I walked the remaining two miles screaming at my mom–terrified that he would come back. Annoyed that I had been so stupid to “look at him.”
That’s the run I got. The run where I needed to clear my head the most. The run I needed to get through the rest of the week was interrupted by a police officer who knew that stopping me could wreck me–could send me spiraling to ground. One stop could send traumatizing fear through my body…
I went home. I cleaned up & I logged into my 9:30AM meeting.
I have a break.I call Jesse–I cry.
I logged into my staff meeting. We met.
I logged into my 4PM meeting. We met.
At the end of the day, I told one person–1 colleague; 1 supervisor; ONE!
I told her through my tears–
“I need you to know to come looking for me. I need someone to know that I didn’t just not show up to the meeting; I didn’t just drop the ball…please come looking for me.” –that is my reality.
I crashed into my couch for a nap at the end of the day.
I woke up & cranked out the Training Camp presentations I have to give the next day…
I never posted about the run.
Two days later, I ran the same route–terrified the whole time. He wasn’t there. I was still terrified.
I shared the following article later —
Your Black Colleagues May Look Like They are Okay — Chances Are They Are Not
This article spoke to a pain that I could not fathom to share at the time, but a pain that is going unrecognized!
When I call out my colleagues, critique senior leadership, and say what I have to say, I am not being some Twitter-heavy millennial, I am telling you I have had ENOUGH!
You can’t sit behind your screen telling me I am not doing enough when I am silencing every ounce of rage I have!
I am MORE than you will ever know or understand.
I am trying my best. I am doing my very best! AND YOU ARE SILENT!
I am trying to focus on becoming the woman of my dreams and the killing of Black people is turning my dreams into nightmares!
I wake up from that nightmare and push myself to be productive and get the job done better than anyone else cause I cannot fathom being perceived as weak so I am trying to hold on to my sanity while it seems like you are UNPHASED!
We all have “hard jobs” but to pretend that police don’t deserve to be held to a higher and different standard is infuriating. To sit from one of the highest positions in the university and ignore this pain is infuriating! How do I serve the institution? How do I develop and educate its students when I am crumbling?!
That cop was charge with “3rd degree” murder — the “I didn’t mean to” murder.
If I make a mistake in my job, then maybe there is a typo in an online orientation or maybe a discussion board has the wrong due date. But when a cop makes a mistake, it’s our LIFE or our DEATH. I don’t need a reminder of who’s a good cop with a hard job or the exceptional police forces–wherever those may be. That cop Wednesday reminded me of exactly what I know.
This isn’t the time to be sunshine and rainbows and I have decided not to be.
This isn’t the time to be silent.
This isn’t the time to “not know what to say”…
This isn’t the time to console or praise good cops.
This is the time to listen…
Learn..
Say something…
Do something…
Earlier I felt strange–even annoyed at myself. I wondered “why do i care if someone says something or doesn’t”? But I was reminded that there are people that interact with me DAILY that need to know that I am here, I am hurting, & that hurt deserves to be acknowledged! And if you aren’t saying something, you’re contributing to my pain…
I am your Black colleague that looks okay, but I’m not and I make no promises for when I will be.
So if you haven’t said something, yes, I am passing judgement on you. I have made a decision about which parts of me you see or don’t see. But thank goodness the decisions I make aren’t life or death…
The sad reality is this won’t be your last opportunity to see my pain.
So maybe I’ll see ya on the next run…
Not Your Average Pearson 
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