CHRIS GUMINA Runner
My grandma accumulated many tidbits of wisdom over the years, tidbits she was eager to share among our family. She told me to listen more than I talk, never take my life for granted, and turn the other cheek. But the piece of advice that I remember best from my childhood visits to grandma’s house was this: never marry anyone until you see them run. “People can fake the way they walk,” she always used to say, “But when they start to run, now that’s when the real personality comes out.” As with all advice from my grandma, I took it to heart. In first grade I was briefly engaged to a girl named Melissa Leary. She was everything I wanted in a potential partner: funny, kind, and able to rotate herself through a perfect cartwheel. We were happily together for two days, when I unfortunately had to break it off after I caught a glimpse of her poor running form. As I grew older I realized that my grandma was more than a little senile towards the end. I wanted to take her advice with a grain of salt. How could you possibly judge someone’s true personality based off nothing but the swinging of their arms and pounding of their feet? And yet something about my grandma’s advice rang true, and I was never able to shake myself free from it. Now, whenever I start getting close with a girl I always find some excuse to make her run where I can see her. My sister is one person who could never run very well. She was all elbows and knees, and would sprawl into the dirt after a few steps at top speed. I felt bad for her my whole childhood. Who would want to marry a girl that ran that poorly? I used to take her outside on sunny days and give pointers, but they never seemed to work. When I brought it up to my grandma one day she just smiled sadly and said, “Ah, but running isn’t something that can be taught. It’s about your personality, and that’s not an easy thing to change.” I 136
