I left my office today for lunch. And I found a park with a walk/run trail, and I ran.
To think I sought this venture with the intent to clear my cluttered mind is astounding to me. Somehow, today, I needed to feel the fire in my lungs, and hear the pounding of my feet on the pavement. I needed to concentrate on the rhythm of my breathing instead of the irregularity of my recent emotions.
Perhaps also, I needed to punish myself, and the best way I know how right now is to subject myself to hyperventilating on a sidewalk in pursuit of my recent ambition.
Whatever the case, I ran outside today in perfect weather, as opposed to the other time I tried to jog outside.
It's probably no surprise to you that while I focused on putting one foot in front of the other at a fast pace, I was reflecting on life, my life, and the actual race coming up in 12 days.
This is where running took a philosophical turn for me.
I could see my brother, Daniel, supporting me, only he couldn't actually run this race with me because it's women only. So I thought that perhaps he could run alongside the race path next to me.
But then quickly I realized this race is mine, and I'll run it alone.
That's not a realization I want.
The person I want beside me, can't be.
He's a boy; I'm a girl.
There's a canyon between what I want and what I can't have.
Dramatic, perhaps, but true.
It's tough to realize that it's my own two legs that'll have to carry me.
I guess it'll make me one Tough Cookie.
The voices in my head were quieted some.
I couldn't hear them over the pounding of my heart on the asphalt.
March 6th is my race date, my do-or-die date, my it's-all-on-the-line-and-up-to-me date.
In the meantime, I'll keep running this marathon called Life, my do-or-die, it's-all-on-the-line-and-up-to-me beautiful life.