Some Thoughts on Running

A few years ago my life was literally in pieces and I made a life changing discovery. When everything had fallen apart, you get the chance to put it back together however you chose. I got a do over That broken time turned out to be full of blessings and oppurtunity. I took it very seriously. I made all sorts of changes. I wanted to sell my house. I wanted to quit my job. I wanted to go back to law school. I wanted to move to Columbus. I did all of those things.

But during that time I got to make alot of small choices about the kind of person that I wanted to be...the kind of life I wanted to live. The kind of single momma that I wanted to be. The type of relationships that I was and was not willing to be in. There were all sorts of these types of choices made but one of them was that I wanted to be a runner. Random I know. My excuse had always been that "I wasn't a runner." As if it is a gene that you are born with. During this time, I started to see it differently. I noticed that highly successful people were almost always runners...CEO's, presidents, you name it. Runners. I started to ponder it and decided that maybe they "weren't runners" either. Maybe they didn't have that gene..perhaps they weren't born runners instead they DECIDED to be runners. To learn to push themselves. To be committed and dedicated and focused. To be mentally strong enough to move beyond what they "felt" like doing. Those were the things I wanted to be. So I became a runner.

It was slow and ugly at first. I printed the Couch to 5K program. I did what it said and completed a few 5K's. It felt great. I felt like I could do anything. I trained for a 10K. I ran daily. It was my time to myself. My time to think. To pray. My reminder that I was strong enough. That I could move beyond what I felt like.That I could do anything I decided to if I just showed up. And I ran no matter what...regardless of my schedule, the weather, my mood. I ran. It was my lifeline.

Then, over time, I picked up the pieces of my broken little life and put them together just how I wanted them. I slowly healed old wounds and went on new adventures. Life was good. As months passed, I wasn't broken any more. And I ran less and less. Until I didn't run at all anymore.

And now here I am. 15 lbs. heavier. Out of shape. Out of balance. And starting over.

Its odd really. The better my life got, the less I thought I needed my lifeline. Subconsciously, of course, but I have gotten further and further away from the very thing that kept me grounded when everything fell apart. Like I didn't need it anymore. But I did. I do. So I humbly start over.