I think a Mac truck hit me in my sleep because I woke up with a bowling ball on my neck. I was pretty sure that there was no way I was going to make it through breakfast without going back to bed. I also knew that if I did go back to bed, I'd wake up a couple of hours later feeling just as crappy - or worse - than if I go my body moving instead. Hence the debate with myself while standing at my bedroom window in my robe, breathing in the fresh air, looking at the road that I'd planned to hit running by then.
"You've been doing so well, don't quit now. You'll be mad at yourself if you do."
"Don't try to shame me! A girl needs to let herself off the hook every now and then! Maybe today is the day...?"
"You're just using fancy words to try to talk yourself out of it. You'll be glad you went."
"Fancy words? Geeze. Is your vocabulary monosyllabic or something."
"Don't try to change the subject. Fan-cy. Two syllables. Duh. Just hurry and put your running clothes on before you notice what you're doing. The dog will see you tying your shoes and get so excited that by then you'll not want to dissapoint her and so THAT will keep you moving out the door. You'll be back before you know it leaving that kink in your shoulder and the bowling ball on your neck somewhere back on up the road. You'll. Feel. Good"
It worked. I went for a morning run. A new resolution I've taken on since our regular programming of school routine started. I participated in a mini marathon a few years back and in preparation for that I ran 3-5 miles a day every day but Sunday. That's a laughable distance for those of you who are real marathon runners but until I'm not carrying around...well...let's just say I COULD feel lighter on my feet. I'm workin' on it.
It was winter when I was "training". By training I mean having no clue of any method of endurance building but rather just getting out and running every dagum day. Except Sunday. I said that already. It was colder than cold - as in frozen in the mornings - and other than my lungs developing a seizing icy coating on the insides, I loved it. I think I hate being hot more than I hate being cold and running makes me hot except when it's 15 degrees outside. Good stuff. I participated in the mini marathon. I might have come in last. I remember people clapping for me and knowing full well that people don't clap for middle people. Just the first and the last. And I wasn't first.
So. Anyway. I'm not so much going for distance with this running thing. I'd be happy at 3-4 miles each run but that is not to be just a casual, glorified walk. I intend to speckle that distance with sprinting bursts to increase the muscle building potential as well as to form a "sprinter's" body rather than a "distance runner's" body. This new morning routine also includes my version of Peak 8 three days a week and holy crap is it kicking my butt! I love it. I feel myself getting stronger if by no other way than the fact that I will have sore muscles that I didn't know I had. Did you know that there are muscles around your ribs?!?! Like, even under your armpits?!?! Who knew!?!
It feels good to move and to work harder at getting strong. Every moment I have to work hard at not buying into my default thought that I won't follow through. I followed through today. Today is today and the more todays of following through that turn into yesterdays, the more I will forget that fear. That will be so awesome.
In addition to being good to my body, I'm letting myself endulge in the love and admiration of other things in this world. Here are just a few:
Katie's Class: Oh my, it's going to be awesome I just know because I know Katie and she is incapable of anything half-arsed. She is one of the most generous teachers/humans/spirits I know and I just love that she's sharing this class with the world. (registration closes this Sunday - the 18th)
Judy's Class: Katie and Judy run neck and neck in the generosity department. If you want to see another genius at work in the most playful and informed way, check out her Hot Wax class.
Mr. Finch's Etsy Shop: Love, love, love the winged creatures. So lovely and mysterious. The shop is empty but the "sold" section is a world in which to loose yourself.
The Birth Story Project: I'm writing a piece about bringing my wild ponies into this world in two home births. A whole coconut shell of remembering how strong I was before I had to think about whether or not I was strong is being hammered open.
World Domination Summit: I'll be going for my birthday next year. The tickets are printed. It might be too much in all the best kinds of ways.
The Dishwasher's Tears Blog: I mean, just LOOK at this that he writes. It rattles me in a beautifully strange way:
"what is it. to love without reservation or regard for the cost of it. to be stripped of every tender mercy and be ground up in the jaws of the great machine, and see your loved ones ground up, too. and to yet love, and to begrudge none of it, the grief and the pain and the measureless sorrow of it.
for you are given the great bounty of it as well. and free to do with it what you will, in whatever manner you choose. for as long as you've got the stage."
We are among the greatest of poets in this life. And I'm just happy if I can keep running.
