I started running when I was about 7. It was the 80's and my parents were big into running back then. So, I started running with my dad. I guess I was pretty good at it. I entered races and placed in my age group. It was the only sport I was good at as a child. I ran until I was about 14 because I injured myself while running cross country track in high school. So, I just stopped. I started running again when I was about 25. Been runnning ever since. And I do love to run.
It is really one of the few times in my day I can get out there and be by myself. It's just me and my thoughts out there trudging along. Away from my girlfriend, away from work, away from my money problems.
Usually when I run, I don't tic so much. When I get in a groove and am lost in thought I forget I have TS. Sometimes my thoughts make their way over to that fact and I do start to tic. It mixes in with my breathing. The vocal tics do, anyway. But no one is there to hear it. And if they do it's either lost in the Doppler effect or in the blurry sound of a passing runner's heavy breathing. Once I start ticcing, though I tend to get loud with it. Mostly because I know no one will hear it or notice it. It's kind of like when I am alone in a room.
But when I am running it intensifies because all of my thoughts are intensified. I am thinking hard thoughts; pumping blood through my heated, adrenalin ridden muscles. It's just an intense feeling to begin with. Mix that with TS, and escapist thoughts and you've got a ticensified 40 minutes of alone time.
I do enjoy the lengthy periods of running time that are not overwhelmed by my tics. The exercise frees me from them in a way. That is until I realize I haven't been ticcing and the demon takes hold of my brain. "Woah, easy guy. You thought you had me tricked. Not so fast, track star." And the tics resume. The battle continues.
I can run all I want. I'll never be able to get away.
11/18/07
Talking to myself
It often appears that I am talking to myself. I don't think I get caught doing it all that much, though. The thing is I am not having a conversation with voices in my head or even with myself aloud. I am repeating things I have heard, said or thought. Phrases, words and thoughts just get stuck. It's like when a needle gets stuck on a record. It keeps skipping over and over, playing that same lyric until someone taps the needle head and the song continues on its course.
This goes on in my head all day long. And usually it stays right there, inside my head. But sometimes it makes it to my lips. And it's not just words. It's the facial expressions that go along with the words. And then these expressions become more and more exaggerated as the repetition goes on.
I figured out a trick the other day while in my car. I was driving alone and pulled up to a red light. I was yapping away. The driver in the next car looked over, seemed disinterested and looked away. I realized I was holding my cell phone in my hand not far from my head. The indifferent driver must have thought I was using the speakerphone. Brilliant. So, now I am driving all over the place, repeating all sorts of shit with my trusty cell phone near by. This can work on the street, too.
Hell, all I need to do is pop my bluetooth earpiece into my ear and none will be the wiser.
This goes on in my head all day long. And usually it stays right there, inside my head. But sometimes it makes it to my lips. And it's not just words. It's the facial expressions that go along with the words. And then these expressions become more and more exaggerated as the repetition goes on.
I figured out a trick the other day while in my car. I was driving alone and pulled up to a red light. I was yapping away. The driver in the next car looked over, seemed disinterested and looked away. I realized I was holding my cell phone in my hand not far from my head. The indifferent driver must have thought I was using the speakerphone. Brilliant. So, now I am driving all over the place, repeating all sorts of shit with my trusty cell phone near by. This can work on the street, too.
Hell, all I need to do is pop my bluetooth earpiece into my ear and none will be the wiser.
11/9/07
"Something's got to give."
I was on the edge of the Grand Canyon. It's pretty cool. You can just walk all the way out to the edge. I walked away from the crowds and found this cool pillar of stone that was somewhat separate from the rest of the rock. It didn't look like you could get to it but I investigated and did.
So, I sat out there on the edge of the canyon by myself for a long time. I had my legs dangling over the edge. It's a great feeling. It shows you how close to death we all are. I don't mean close to death as in it's easy to die at any time. I mean close as in it's right there. Right there next to you. When you're driving 80 miles an hour on a highway and just ten feet to your right is a deep trench. If you swerved into it you would most likely die. It's right there. It's so close. And that is the feeling I got with my legs draped over the edge of the nation's largest canyon. I thought about a lot of things while I sat there.
I went back at night. There was not a soul there. The canyon was blank. Total darkness. My headlamp would illuminate the rock but beyond that was a dark abyss. I climbed back out to my perch and sat there. And death was right there next to me, just minding its own business. And then came the urge.
Tourettes is all about urges. That's really all it is. An enormous amount of irresistible urges. I don't want to die. In fact I am so scared of death that sometimes I think that fear will drive me mad. It wasn't an urge to commit suicide. But it was an urge to jump. TS doesn't create this urge in me because I want to die. If my heart hadn't beaten so quickly while on that edge the urge may never have presented itself. Basically, TS is your own brain telling you to do something you know you are not supposed to do. It's why we yell curse words out loud. It's unacceptable behavior.
So, there I was on the edge of one of the most impressive examples of natural beauty in the world. And I wanted to jump. I wasn't going to do it. Deep down I knew I wouldn't. But that urge to jump was so intense that I cannot accurately put it into words. The demon that lives symbiotically inside my brain knows I am scared of death. That is the reason it gave me the powerful urge to jump to my death. All it would have taken was a step. Just a step.
I wasn't scared that I would do it. I thought it was funny. Here I am standing beside the edge of darkness and something inside me can't resist the temptation of pushing me to my limit.
And obviously I didn't jump. I was able to resist that urge. Yet, I cannot resist the urge to arch my back for no reason or tilt my head back, stretching my neck until it hurts or a million other itches I scratch on a daily basis.
Maybe if every tic resulted in death we would all be cured.
So, I sat out there on the edge of the canyon by myself for a long time. I had my legs dangling over the edge. It's a great feeling. It shows you how close to death we all are. I don't mean close to death as in it's easy to die at any time. I mean close as in it's right there. Right there next to you. When you're driving 80 miles an hour on a highway and just ten feet to your right is a deep trench. If you swerved into it you would most likely die. It's right there. It's so close. And that is the feeling I got with my legs draped over the edge of the nation's largest canyon. I thought about a lot of things while I sat there.
I went back at night. There was not a soul there. The canyon was blank. Total darkness. My headlamp would illuminate the rock but beyond that was a dark abyss. I climbed back out to my perch and sat there. And death was right there next to me, just minding its own business. And then came the urge.
Tourettes is all about urges. That's really all it is. An enormous amount of irresistible urges. I don't want to die. In fact I am so scared of death that sometimes I think that fear will drive me mad. It wasn't an urge to commit suicide. But it was an urge to jump. TS doesn't create this urge in me because I want to die. If my heart hadn't beaten so quickly while on that edge the urge may never have presented itself. Basically, TS is your own brain telling you to do something you know you are not supposed to do. It's why we yell curse words out loud. It's unacceptable behavior.
So, there I was on the edge of one of the most impressive examples of natural beauty in the world. And I wanted to jump. I wasn't going to do it. Deep down I knew I wouldn't. But that urge to jump was so intense that I cannot accurately put it into words. The demon that lives symbiotically inside my brain knows I am scared of death. That is the reason it gave me the powerful urge to jump to my death. All it would have taken was a step. Just a step.
I wasn't scared that I would do it. I thought it was funny. Here I am standing beside the edge of darkness and something inside me can't resist the temptation of pushing me to my limit.
And obviously I didn't jump. I was able to resist that urge. Yet, I cannot resist the urge to arch my back for no reason or tilt my head back, stretching my neck until it hurts or a million other itches I scratch on a daily basis.
Maybe if every tic resulted in death we would all be cured.
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