You can be afraid of the dark, you can be afraid of disease, you can be afraid of growing old, of misery, of not being well in your shoes.<\/p>\n
There are a thousand fears we can have, and they all trace back to the two greatest and most powerful fears human beings can experience: that of dying and of not being loved.<\/p>\n
Fear is also a great ally of ours: if we never had any, we would have become extinct long ago because fear warns us and makes us run away when we are in danger. It is a force that can terrify us but also requires us to react, if we are capable of doing so.<\/p>\n
Michael Schumacher was once asked if he was ever afraid while driving at those crazy speeds. He replied that yes, he always had it and woe if he didn’t: fear was the limit to overconfidence, to recklessness. If he did not have it, he would have trusted himself beyond the bounds of reasonableness. Fear contained him and saved him.<\/p>\n
I thought back over the past few days to the reactions of many runners to the possibility that they would force us to run with masks on, which was then a fear that hid the bigger one: that they would still prevent us from doing it. That they would call us back to our responsibilities, telling us that taking them on meant not running so as not to cause harm. How and what damage was not well understood. But it doesn’t matter because what matters is that they weren’t\/were not just angry about a possible new ban (which hasn’t disappeared completely, it always hovers even if it sometimes recedes indefinitely): they were\/were afraid that they would also take away that thing that makes us feel so good.<\/p>\n
In the midst of such difficult times we cling as best we can to a few things, hoping they will not fade away. To affections, to a more or less secure job, to passions: to running. Running is our domain and our realm: by running we alone decide our times and speed, we decide the direction and pace. We are masters of this house that is in our minds and becomes real when we go out for a run.<\/p>\n
It is a very personal and intimate space, and in recent months we have seen it violated several times. For understandable and lawful reasons, I would like to say this: the law should be respected, as long as it is reasonable. If you do not think it is reasonable just violate it and take responsibility for it.
\nBeyond all this, however, let’s admit it: we were afraid. Fear that our freedom would be restricted and fear that something would be taken away from us, by force. That space we had built in so many hours of solitary patience, with so much effort.<\/p>\n
The fears we may have are many, and in the end there are only two, we said. Of dying and being unloved. So what does the restriction of freedom have to do with these two Great Fears? It has everything to do with it: it is the fear of not being understood in our passions and therefore not accepted, not loved. Even rejected because we stubbornly want to run or do something that for some reason is no longer allowed. We are afraid of having to grieve, even if no one has died.<\/p>\n
The story goes that during the war in the former Yugoslavia, one could see people on the streets of Sarajevo who were at least peculiar: they carried musical instruments. Who a cello, who a violin or a trumpet. They were musicians who braved the snipers and the bombs to go to class or to lecture.
\nCould it be that in a time of hardship and war these people were thinking about playing?<\/p>\n
In the emergency we look for normalcy, and for some it is normal to play the violin, even if they throw grenades out the window. Normality is what reassures us; it is what does not make us afraid. Sometimes maybe it is boring, but those musicians considered-understandably-even boredom as more attractive than the madness that happened before their eyes, every day.<\/p>\n
What we felt was a fear of minor intensity and in a context that has nothing comparable to the drama of a war, yet it is a fear that is permissible to feel.
\nPerhaps it is fair to understand that we were not just angry or bitter. By giving it the right name, it can be seen in the right light.<\/p>\n
Knowing one’s fears helps to make them take on the right dimensions, to make them paradoxically less scary.
\nWe were not afraid that they would take something away from us: we were afraid that we would no longer be able to do what we love to do.
\nIn the meantime: let’s keep doing it.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Do you know your fears? Do you get conditioned or do you use them to spur you on to do better? <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":62286,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_wpcom_ai_launchpad_first_post":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":true},"categories":[15106,15185],"tags":[17126,19809],"powerkit_post_featured":[],"class_list":["post-71750","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","category-editorials","category-wellness","tag-fear","tag-know-your-limits"],"yoast_head":"\n