(trigger warning: anxiety and depression)
Just when I thought I was already caught in a deep, dark trap I could no longer free myself from, I felt my feet. I felt them wanting to run. I felt myself wanting to run.
So I did.
I once promised myself I would never watch Running Man beyond its forty-first episode.
It was 2016, and the year just started. I was alone inside my freshman dorm room. Thank all odds my roommate was still out for her classes — or else she might have needed to witness me ugly-sob over the 106-second long first teaser for Descendants of the Sun.
You see, I have been a Ki Aile — or a fan of actor Song Joong Ki — ever since 2012. I fell head-over-heels for him after seeing him the very first time as Yeo-rim in Sungkyunkwan Scandal (the show aired in 2010 but I only got my hands on a copy of it two years later). I counted down every single day from his military enlistment up to his discharge in 2015 — and then continued counting for almost one more year, until he finally returned as an actor.
And when he came back that day in January 2016, I cried. Hard.
The crying was unusual. It was the first time in my life that I experienced such overwhelming emotions. My breathing became so uneven I needed to gently hit my chest a few times to feel relieved. My tears of joy — or as I refer to it — would not stop. I knew it was happiness, the feeling I was having that moment, but at the same time, it was painful, controllable and scary. It was unfamiliar.
I later learnt what I experienced was a panic attack.
The crying worsened after DOTS gained traction and became popular. I started questioning myself, “Am I not overjoyed by Joong Ki’s success?” I thought it was the only explanation for my misery — everyone suddenly idolizing the man I looked up to for so long: that I am a fake, selfish fan who wanted Joong Ki for herself.
But that wasn’t it. I was merely overwhelmed.
Suddenly people who didn’t care about a person I admired so much were fangirling over his good looks, great acting and beautiful smile. His face was all over my Facebook and Twitter feeds. My posts about Joong Ki, which were previously ignored by my friends and followers, were getting a lot of interactions.
Suddenly, I became just one of many.
The overwhelming feeling had me sobbing every night. A mere Facebook post of someone I barely know, fangirling about Joong Ki, would drive me insane. Seeing DOTS trending on Twitter would trigger a panic attack.
One night, the crying became unbearable. I grabbed my phone and immediately sent a text to my best friends. With much struggle, I explained to them what I was going through — the happiness turned to overwhelming pain. I told them I should be happy.
“It should only be happiness I am feeling, but why am I hurt? I am very much hurt.”
I remember one of my best friends telling me casually: “Try watching Running Man? It would help you laugh.”
In that moment, something clicked. My friends had already been watching Running Man since we were just high schoolers, but I never really let them influence me into watching the show too. I knew Joong Ki used to be part of the variety show, but it wasn’t enough to convince me to devote some of my time to watch it.
Until that moment.
I started watching the show and promised myself to stop watching after Episode 41 — Joong Ki’s last episode as a Running Man member.
But of course, my life slapped me with a plot twist.
My binge-watching activities during the time involved only Running Man and DOTS — and it was a hell of a ride. Every single episode of DOTS pierced me, causing me the worst pain I felt for years. As a remedy, I watched a Running Man episode after each DOTS episode.
Slowly, the tears became smiles. It was not Big Boss I saw in the show; it was flower boy Joong Ki, wearing his most youthful smile and bringing with him his incomparable competitiveness. Seeing him in his rookie years humbled me and made me realize how deserving he was to be receiving the praise and fame he currently enjoys.
It became my routine: I watch DOTS, get sad, watch Running Man, laugh and forget I was sobbing hard just an hour ago. It was like that until DOTS ended, and I reached Episode 41 of Running Man.
The laughter stopped — but my tears returned worse than ever.
It was everything all at once: the feeling of emptiness over DOTS ending, the pressure from my academic load in the university, the stress caused by the application process of the organization I have been eyeing, the fear of not being able to cope with everything. I had the second worst panic attack of my life.
I realized my problem — whatever it was — initially caused by DOTS, never left me. It was inside me. Inside my head, waiting for the temporary cause of my laughter to disappear before it could betray me again with its pangs of agony.
Running Man. I needed Running Man back.
I returned to my routine. I made sure to watch at least one Running Man episode a day. It became a distraction from my emotionally unstable state. It was an hour worth the sense of relief after a full-day of exhaustion from my draining and fast-paced life.
It became a safe haven– something, somewhere, I could be at ease, without being haunted by the worry that my genuine smiles and laughter would backfire later on.
Running Man became a vehicle of escape for me. Just when I thought I was already caught in a deep, dark trap I can no longer free myself from, I felt my feet. I felt them wanting to run. I felt myself wanting to run.
So I did.
I ran, with the Running Man members. Jae Suk, Seok Jin, Jong Kook, Kwang Soo, Ji Hyo, Haha, and eventually, Somin and Sechan, were the best running mates I could ever ask for.
All of them have this natural knack in getting the biggest laugh out of me, even if I have been dealing with a serious breakdown just few minutes prior. The undeniable chemistry they have with each other, fuelled by the fresh concepts and signature games the show has introduced made every episode a sure remedy for my tough times.
Don’t get me wrong– the show never banished my depression and anxiety. But it made things way better and more manageable for me. With Running Man, I was able to stop my panic attacks before they started or became too messy to handle. There was even a phase in my life where I made sure that I had one unwatched Running Man episode stored on my phone, so that I have an instant go-to antidote once my head started messing with me in the middle of the day.
I cannot be more grateful to this show.
Running Man was never merely a variety show for me. The sense of family the show has showed its viewers is something which outsells all of the name tag ripping, wild chasing, overly-competitive races, and countless betrayals that have happened in all of its 487 — and counting — episodes.
The way avid Runners were able to follow the stories of struggles and growth of each of the members, both on and off screen, and somehow were able to relate to each one of them. The way Runners are able to see through the jokes each member throws at one another and see them as acts of fondness coming from years-worth of incomparable camaraderie.
The way Runners have been at the center of every Running Man episode, which aims of nothing but to deliver happiness — regardless of how fleeting it would be — to all of the show’s viewers.
I truly hope the cast and the writers behind this genius of a program know they were able to give Runners much more than just an hour-worth of laughter and escape.
They were able to give us a life-long sense of relief over the fact that however badly the world treats us from Monday to Saturday. The moment Sunday comes, life will surely be a bit better.
It was agony which led me to Running Man. It is ironic, how the reason for my pain was also the one who introduced me to the show which would forever supply me the cure that I need.
But, I guess, that’s life. Just like how in every Running Man race, the members need to accomplish difficult missions first before they are able to get their reward — or escape penalty — life is a race with yourself, full of self-constructed obstacles, and it is up to you how you want to reach your own finish line.
As for me, decided to run for my life: I became a Runner.
~~~
To all Filipino Runners who want to finally meet in person the reasons of your laughter all these years– this is your chance! The Running Man family is coming to Manila to meet Filipino Runners~
Catch the nation’s emcee Yoo Jae Suk, race starter Ji Suk Jin, Sparta-Kook Kim Jong Kook, Asia’s prince Lee Kwang Soo, Ace Song Ji Hyo, Haroro Haha, and maknaes Jeon So Min and Yang Se Chan in “A Decade of Laughter: RUNNING MAN in Manila”! The fan-meeting will be held on February 9 2020 at the SM Mall of Asia Arena.
This event is presented to you by PULP Live World.
Written by: Erin
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