Run Therapy

I ran three times last week.  After not running at all it feels like a gift from my allowing body.  On Sunday I attempted a 4th run but it just wasn't happening.  I made it out to the beach with my shoes laced up, ready to go.  The weather was finally behaving.  I took a few strides and couldn't follow through.  Mentally, I wasn't able.  Unfortunately our minds and bodies are both required for such an act. 


It has been an emotional roller coaster of a weekend. 


My dad is not well.  He just underwent some serious surgery and there is more to come.  We haven't spoken for years; that is until Friday.  After a near death experience I have my Dad again.  It is bizarre how it all works out.  I almost lost him, now I have him.  


It is moments like this that it is hard to live over 2,000 miles from home.  My best friend is delivering her baby tomorrow and I can't visit her in the hospital.  My sister had her baby shower on Sunday and I wasn't there to smile and laugh with her.  My younger sister just won 1st place in a cheerleading competition and I couldn't hug her.   Both my sisters are pregnant and I don't get to rub their bellies and eat chinese take-out with them like I did during their last pregnancies.  My nieces are growing exponentially each month and becoming real people while Aunt Kate misses it all.  My dad is sick and I wish I could have seen him as he came out of surgery.  


I never regret moving away from home.  It was vital to my overall happiness and life experience.  I would never be content if I stayed put.


Tonight, I decided to try that run again.  I went back to the beach, by myself this time.  I put on some melancholy music and started to run.  Am I the only one that listens to sad music or watches sad movies when I'm already extremely sad?  Please tell me I am not alone.  Anyway, I played my sad music and ran.  Effortlessly.  I felt like I was flying above my body.  I honestly could not feel my legs.  It was as though someone wound me up like one of those plastic toys and let me go.  It took zero mental effort, my legs moved themselves.  

The sun was setting over the ocean and I was able to bask in those beautiful moments.  People were taking pictures and couples cradled each other as it dipped below the horizon.  It was magical.  Watching and feeling the sun disappear over the deep, wide ocean filled my heart back up again.  Something as simple as that can be incredibly moving. 


I continued on my way for an hour and a half.  I felt like I could run a marathon.  At times I wondered "whose body is this?"  Pain-free and effortless, couldn't be mine.  But it was.


I don't always like to talk about the things that weigh heavy on my mind.  Sometimes, running is my silent way of getting it out.  It can serve as a therapy session.  Each stride is a word from my lips.  With every footfall I feel lighter.  At some point I feel ready to fill myself with warmth and joy, in the place that was occupied with sadness.  Sometimes, for me,  running is the only way to do this.  


I am so grateful for my body and my ability to run.  I feel incredibly lucky to have something in my life that brings me so much peace of mind.  I know I am not alone in this.


Happy Running, Everyone.