Running, my dear, do you know how much I love you?
For years you were my go-to, my safe place, my solitude and my strength. It took is a long tome to meet and connect, but once we did, we were inseparable. Through rain, snow, sleet, and heat, you would be there when I needed you. You became a way to shake off the troubles of my day, lift me out of a funk, or just get me moving and out of my head. Through you I have found clarity, inspiration, and a spark of creativity when needed.We spent so much time together, that after awhile, we grew apart. Distance was inevitable. I moved onto different ways of movement, different ways of awakening and connecting, and different interests. But every once in awhile, I would get the urge to run – a song, a pathway, a spark, anything that would remind me of what it felt like to fly while running. And so once again, we meet, picking up, not right where we left off, but right where we are now.
And where we are now is sometimes awkward and stiff. There is tension between us as we try to find a rhythm again. This awkward dance lasts a few steps, sometimes a few miles, and I try my best to not give up and just walk. But my feet are heavy, my legs and joints stiff, and for a few more moments I carry on. And then it is gone. We ease into our once familiar dance – only now it is brand new – and the tension is released. My feet feel light, my legs steady, and my mind focused. The distractions are gone and the rhythm has been found. The dance becomes stronger and again, I fly.
After awhile, the breaks and pauses to walk seem foreign, as if my legs and feet are too heavy and the pace too slow and trodding. They crave the run, and with the first step into it, they feel as light as clouds and ready to continue on. For as many miles as needed… Running, my dear, thank you for finding me again. Peace and Love, Jessi
