The run-away child

I love running. For so many reasons. I don't get to do it as much as I would like, but when I do finally have some time to run it's sacred time. I used to run for training reasons or to punish myself for eating cheesecake or to tone-up or just drop a couple lb's. But now...now I run, because my soul needs it more than my body.

I've noticed a new pattern in my running. It's steady and it's steadfast. It's become my therapy. This year started out rough and got even rougher as the weeks turned into months. Relationships (on all fronts) went crazy, too many people passed away, and the process of letting go became too overwhelming at points.

Soon I found myself running all the time. Running to get over relationships gone awry. Running to clear my head. Running to keep from crying. (Turns out if you need to cry bad enough, you can still do both.) Running, running, running...

There have been times that I had myself convinced that if I just ran harder and faster I could somehow speed up time or leave reality in the dust. Other times I felt like I was doing it for freedom's sake. Because I could. And then there's today. Today will be no different from all the times before. I will, once again, be meeting in my synagogue of solitude as my feet rhythmically pound the pavement. Racing forward to clear my head, to keep from crying while escaping reality and for freedom's sake.

Today, I run.