Sure, it hasn't been easy being away from my children and other loved ones as I've taken on extreme solo adventures across huge land masses that take weeks or months to conquer. However, I learned decades ago how to cope with being alone. There are times in life when being alone is quite beneficial. To be able to only hear the sound of a clock tick or your own breathing is a chance to contemplate life -- our purpose, our direction, our dreams, and our heart. Certainly, in today's busy world it's challenging to find time to be alone in the quietness of our own thoughts.
As I grow older, I grow more aware of time. Once you're in your 50's you begin to realize that you have more years behind you than you have in front of you. Time becomes more precious, and you don't necessarily want to spend all of your non-working time alone. Sure, there are those who do it and actually have more of a 'virtual' social group via the Internet as they sit alone staring into glowing screens. I'm not that type of man. I'm the type of man that wants to grab the brass ring of life, and do it with that special someone by my side -- and for me that "special someone" is my fiancé, Kelley. I want to spend my final hours on this earth looking back over a life that was well lived... thinking, "That was a hell of a run!" I want to make a difference in the lives of others, no matter how small that difference may be. I want to live, laugh and love with all of my heart and not feel like I have to watch my every step. If I had watched my every step running across places like the USA, Germany and the Mojave Desert, I would have exhausted myself mentally and the bi-product would have been emotional collapse leading to a complete halt.
My mother is nearly 81 years young, and my Dad is a little ahead of her at 84. In fact, he just celebrated his birthday this week. I spoke to him and asked what he would be doing on his special day. He said, "It doesn't matter what I do, as long as I'm with your mother!" They've been married for 63 years and are still head-over-heels in love. They hold hands, flirt with each other, and couldn't imagine life without one another. I want that, and Kelley has told me that she wants that too. Sure, divorce dealt me a tough blow and there's no way I'll be able to celebrate 63 years of marriage to one person. That's just how life dealt my cards. However, as I go through moments of being alone I realize that no matter how good I am at dealing with consistent times alone, I don't want that for the rest of my life.
I've already logged 19,205 days on this earth. If I'm lucky, I've got another 13,870 to go (that is, if I live to 90). So, barring a life-ending heart attack, being struck by a bus, or some other tragedy, I should have about 42% of my life left -- but of course, many of those years will be in retirement and taking advantage of senior discounts. In retrospect, I spent much of my 22 to 50-year-old range alone. Yes, I had my four children around me as they were being raised, but from the perspective of non-children relationships, I was alone for much of that season of life. Now, my children are adults and my fiancé and I are looking toward our future together.
Is there an art to being alone? I believe that people who can cope well with being alone are, by nature, patient people. I believe I'm a rather patient person, and that has worked to my advantage in running across states and countries. Philosopher Thomas Carlyle once said, "Endurance is patience concentrated." I understand that so well, and by understanding that I believe I can endure times of being alone quite well.
When have I felt the most alone? The answer may not surprise you, but the reason for the answer may. When I was in the middle of the Mojave Desert in April 2011 during my solo 506-mile run from the South Rim of the Grand Canyon to Badwater Basin, Death Valley -- I felt the most alone I ever have in my life. There was a four-day stretch of nothing but uninhabited paths, blowing sand, and heat. I was physically exhausted from pushing all of my gear, food and water in a cart and was laying in a one-man tent -- looking through the mesh-net ceiling and seeing nothing but the most intense sea of stars and satellites. It was completely silent, except for the distant sound of an occasional coyote howl. My marriage was crumbling, the business I owned was crumbling, and I was once again away from my four children... who gave me more strength than they even know. My only companion in the desert was God. He was there. I laid there rather dehydrated... hungry... hurting... exhausted... and feeling as though if I closed my eyes and didn't wake up, that it wouldn't matter much. There are certainly times when being alone can feel like a coffin. My choice then was to not let the desert be my final resting place. I ran out and became the first to successfully complete that running adventure. Life is truly worth living, and "living" is what I want to do with the time I have left.
If you're in a season of being alone, do some looking back, but not as much as looking forward. History is behind you, life is in you now, and the future is stretched out before you. In time, you'll rise up out of the desert and run for the horizon. Make sure it's one hell of a run!
From Him, Through Him, For Him (Romans 11:36),
Paul J. Staso
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Visit my YouTube channel -- https://www.youtube.com/user/pacetrek
Click on any of the links below to see some of my adventure photos:
- United States in 2006 (3,260 miles solo in 108 days at age 41)
- Montana in 2008 (620 miles solo in 20 days at age 43)
- Alaska in 2009 (500 miles solo in 18 days at age 44)
- Germany in 2010 (500 miles solo in 21 days at age 45)
- The Mojave Desert in 2011 (506 miles solo in 17 days at age 46)
- Various Photos From Mileposts Gone By
- Students Worldwide Who Ran With Me Virtually
- Roadside Sights From My Running Adventures
- Some Cycling Moments From The Past
