I haven’t written about running hardly at all in months. Because I have hardly been running at all in months.
I could say it’s because of my vein ablation or the busyness of moving, but those would be excuses and I’m a no excuses woman.
The real deal is that sometimes running is hard. Really hard. Like, I’m somehow prompting my legs to move forward by force of will and I look down to find the darn cheating things walking instead of running. So I goad them back into a run, and low and behold they quit on my again.
And in those times I wonder if I’m just not trying hard enough. Or if my determination or desire is the problem. I don’t rightly know. I just can’t make my legs do what I’m telling them to do, even under duress.
I walked a lot, but walking isn’t running. It doesn’t cleanse my soul and mind the way running does. It’s good, lovely even, but it doesn’t make my spirit soar. And I have a spirit that craves a good whoopdeedo on the air currents.
Whether it’s because I’m stubborn or stupid, I keep trying. I’m always just sure there’s some super secret combination that will unlock the run for me again.
Don’t tell anyone, but I think I found it. I’m not sure exactly what it even is. I stumbled upon it in the dark somewhere and unlocked my chutzpah. I’m back. (Maybe, I mean, at least I think I am).
It’s nothing special, except to me, but doggone it, the past few weeks when I tell my legs to run they do it. I don’t catch them cheating these days by sneaking in a walk while I’m not paying attention. And I’m pretty sure those two ton ball-and-chains that had been shackled to me fell off a ways back, because my legs feel like legs, not like cement bags.
I’m a touch slow on the uptake, but I do believe that sometimes my body can tolerate and thrive on running, and sometimes it can’t. (I know, quite the in depth analysis, no wonder the epiphany took so long). But right now it can, and I’m going to run with it!