A Run to Remember
I went jogging this morning. Big deal, right? It probably would not have been such a headline news story except that I have not done so in several years. I'm not sure why I felt like doing it, yet today I woke up determined. Sometimes it is best not to question such impulses, but simply to indulge them. So I slipped on my sneakers, the ones that spend way more time in the closet than on my feet, clipped my Ipod to my t-shirt and off I went.
I started off slow. Okay, that is probably an understatement. I felt more like the Tin Man, and a 90-year old version at that. My knees creaked. My ankles pulsed. I was cracking all over the place, my body threatening to give out at any moment and collapse into a pile of weary old bones. But I kept going. It was not a long run by any means (just down to the end of a rather long street near my apartment and back again), but it was good enough.
I trudged along the canalside pathway, picking up a little steam. This wasn't so bad, I thought to myself. It was a lovely Saturday morning, complete with strong trade wind breezes and abundant sunshine staring me in the face, causing me to squint defensively as I made my way down the boulevard. But I didn't mind the sun, not one bit in fact. I loved it. I kept running right into the brightness, feeling my heartbeat steadily quickening with each pound of the pavement.
There were lots of people up early on this weekend day, walking dogs, running, biking, or simply strolling about leisurely. Life was in full swing on this stretch of sidewalk, and there I was right smack in the middle of it. Eventually I noticed that I had fallen into a nice little groove of my own. The music trickling from my headphones was of great assistance to be sure, but was fading ever so gently into the background the farther I ran. By the time I reached the end of the road, I started to think I might lift off into the stratosphere, sort of the way E.T and Elliot did on their magic bicycle so many years ago. I never did leave the ground, but for a few minutes I felt so incredibly light that anything seemed possible. Maybe it was lack of oxygen, who knows. I just knew that I felt unburdened. I was in the moment. My senses were tingling and the endorphins were jamming, sending me into a bit of ecstatic timelessness as I turned around and began treading the path back home.
I could feel my smile. Here I was, running and smiling. Truthfully, I didn't even think that was possible. As I headed towards the finish line, I began consciously making eye contact with all of the other souls who were out doing their thing on this day. Most never even looked up. A few smiled back. Either one worked. I understood both responses. I thought of all the times, the plethora of times when I've ignored a smiling stranger and my own reasons for not reaching out and making that contact, and I quietly understood. I had done so much ignoring of my own lately, insulating myself with a protective shield so heavy that on certain days it seemed impossible to even swivel my head to acknowledge my surroundings. I have lumbered through that dark and lonely tunnel, staring straight ahead into the blackness and forgetting that I can always just look in a different direction to see the light. But not today--not now. Things were different. Today, I had a choice.
Finally I was nearing the end of my run. Transitioning to a brisk walk, I felt the sweat dripping down my face and onto my shirt. My legs felt sturdy, my feet rooted to the ground. I felt the life-giving support of Mother Earth. Around me was nothing but space. Soft, cushy, expansive space. There was a buzzing vitality there in that spaciousness, a clarity even. Within that gorgeous void it became plainly obvious why I had resurrected that old, neglected pair of Avias from their hiding place. I heard their call. I listened, and now I could feel the blood pumping, my own heart pounding. I was alive and well, and I knew it. God, what a blessing. Somehow I had forgotten how free I was to feel this way, yet this morning--graciously, but for a moment--I was happy to remember.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
I started off slow. Okay, that is probably an understatement. I felt more like the Tin Man, and a 90-year old version at that. My knees creaked. My ankles pulsed. I was cracking all over the place, my body threatening to give out at any moment and collapse into a pile of weary old bones. But I kept going. It was not a long run by any means (just down to the end of a rather long street near my apartment and back again), but it was good enough.
I trudged along the canalside pathway, picking up a little steam. This wasn't so bad, I thought to myself. It was a lovely Saturday morning, complete with strong trade wind breezes and abundant sunshine staring me in the face, causing me to squint defensively as I made my way down the boulevard. But I didn't mind the sun, not one bit in fact. I loved it. I kept running right into the brightness, feeling my heartbeat steadily quickening with each pound of the pavement.
There were lots of people up early on this weekend day, walking dogs, running, biking, or simply strolling about leisurely. Life was in full swing on this stretch of sidewalk, and there I was right smack in the middle of it. Eventually I noticed that I had fallen into a nice little groove of my own. The music trickling from my headphones was of great assistance to be sure, but was fading ever so gently into the background the farther I ran. By the time I reached the end of the road, I started to think I might lift off into the stratosphere, sort of the way E.T and Elliot did on their magic bicycle so many years ago. I never did leave the ground, but for a few minutes I felt so incredibly light that anything seemed possible. Maybe it was lack of oxygen, who knows. I just knew that I felt unburdened. I was in the moment. My senses were tingling and the endorphins were jamming, sending me into a bit of ecstatic timelessness as I turned around and began treading the path back home.
I could feel my smile. Here I was, running and smiling. Truthfully, I didn't even think that was possible. As I headed towards the finish line, I began consciously making eye contact with all of the other souls who were out doing their thing on this day. Most never even looked up. A few smiled back. Either one worked. I understood both responses. I thought of all the times, the plethora of times when I've ignored a smiling stranger and my own reasons for not reaching out and making that contact, and I quietly understood. I had done so much ignoring of my own lately, insulating myself with a protective shield so heavy that on certain days it seemed impossible to even swivel my head to acknowledge my surroundings. I have lumbered through that dark and lonely tunnel, staring straight ahead into the blackness and forgetting that I can always just look in a different direction to see the light. But not today--not now. Things were different. Today, I had a choice.
Finally I was nearing the end of my run. Transitioning to a brisk walk, I felt the sweat dripping down my face and onto my shirt. My legs felt sturdy, my feet rooted to the ground. I felt the life-giving support of Mother Earth. Around me was nothing but space. Soft, cushy, expansive space. There was a buzzing vitality there in that spaciousness, a clarity even. Within that gorgeous void it became plainly obvious why I had resurrected that old, neglected pair of Avias from their hiding place. I heard their call. I listened, and now I could feel the blood pumping, my own heart pounding. I was alive and well, and I knew it. God, what a blessing. Somehow I had forgotten how free I was to feel this way, yet this morning--graciously, but for a moment--I was happy to remember.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
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