When my head, or heart, is muddled, the best treatment is to go for a run. But I don't always do what's best for me. If I did, I would have a run streak comparable to Brett Favre's NFL game streak. I have a six and a four year old, have moved across the country recently (1.5 years ago but it feels like yesterday), and am kind've sort've switching careers maybe. Both my head and my heart could benefit from daily run therapy.
But I haven't run since the RnR Las Vegas half, 10 days ago. And to be honest, I didn't really do much training for that race. After a sprained foot from not training for the Chicago marathon (see "85% Idiocy..."), I rested and eased back into a mediocre running schedule, topping out at 4.5 miles before Vegas. Vegas was cold and hurt like a b*tch.
It wasn't enough to convince me, but I've been feeling hopeless and heartbroken in the wake of the "Ferguson Decision." I needed to do something invigorating, no matter how small. I layered-up, queued up some Colbie Caillat (because for some reason her music reminds me of winter festivals), and headed out for a very short and very slow run in the snow.
With one foot soaked through, the excuses started to flood back in. There was no way I could run in this freezing cold weather with a wet foot. I would have to cut my run short by half. It was almost enough to bring me to tears.
Instead of crying and giving up, I let all the excuses flow back in and through me...I can't work in education anymore because I have two small kids who need me more. I can't pick up more consulting and writing jobs because my husband works such long hours. I can't stand up in person for what I believe is right in Ferguson because I have two little kids to take care of. I can't start a successful business because I don't know anything about managing a business. I can't train to be the runner I want to be because I don't have the time or the right equipment. I can't, I can't, I can't...
I let the excuses go as quickly as they came, and replaced them with the only thing I know to be true...I can't because I am afraid. I'm afraid of failure and afraid of letting people down. And I am tired of being afraid.
So I didn't cut my run short. I kept going. My stride lengthened, my pace quickened, my body warmed my wet foot, and I felt hope inch its way back in to my mind. By the end of the second lap, both feet were soaked through, and I had more to give than what I started with. Some people have faith to turn to, others an unrelenting positiveness. Me, I have the renewing run, and from it hope...always hope.
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