A Case Of The What If's

This is too hard.

It's never going to happen.

I give up.

Phrases I've spoken from time to time that are usually preceded by some difficulty or barriers that can be hurdled with enough determination and the correct mindset. Recently, I've found my thoughts bouncing between both ends of the spectrum, one side saying I'm almost there and that dreams will become a reality, the other side saying to throw in the towel and call it a day.

Last night, I was out for run with nothing but the fresh air, a little music plugged into my ears, and my trusty old running shoes. I always like the way it feels to run long distance. I know the minute I get beyond my neighborhood I'm officially on an adventure. Given the back roads and dirt paths that I often run, there's no one close by to pick me up right away if I get tired. There are no cabs, trolleys or shuttles waiting off to the side for emergencies. If I want to get home I'll have to get myself there. And while at times this is an exhausting thought, the thrill of not knowing whether or not I can truly make it keeps me moving forward, pushing through all those leg aches and side cramps.

It was at about mile 4 of my run last night when a cramp in my ribs started whining to my brain that it was time to stop or slow down. So, I did what I always try to do first and started breathing a little more deeply, counting to 3 on the inhale and counting to 3 on the exhale. I know what it's like to push through the pain and taste victory. I also know what it's like to stop all together and inevitably end up kicking myself for not trying to get a little farther down the road. It was while I was breathing deeply that I started to have "what if" thoughts.

What if I gave up right here and just around the bend was a pile of cash just waiting for someone to pick it up?

What if I stopped running and just around the corner is Ryan Gosling, stranded, and in need of a cute, single girl's help?

What if what I truly want is right in front of me and just within reach?

What if the reason why life is sometimes really tough and the feeling to quit becomes so overwhelming is because our goals, our dreams are just about to be realized? 

I finished that run last night without slowing down, stopping or quitting. I ran just about 5 miles and it was the longest distance I've ever run by myself. No one was next to me chanting in my ear, "You've got this, girl!" There was no elusive pile of cash around any of the corners I rounded and Ryan Gosling was nowhere to be found. But I reached my goal last night. I finally ran the distance that I've been wanting to say is my short run, all by myself, without it feeling too painful.

I went to bed last night in peace. It was a peace I had been missing; the kind of calm presence that says, "I'm not worried. I know what I want is just up ahead." I may not know exactly how the life I want is going to become a reality, but I'm up for the adventure. I'm willing to keep going, to see what's just around the bend.

Stolen moments.

Last week someone called me a gypsy. I'm more of a high maintenance gypsy, but definitely a free spirited floater, nonetheless.

Today I ran in my third race; my first all-running type race. I debated, hemmed and hawed, and otherwise procrastinated signing up for this, because I knew in the back of my mind that the minute I signed up for it something would come up that would take me out of town and that I might be inclined to bail. In short, I was nervous to commit to any one place for too long.

Story of my new life.

Anyway, I signed myself and a friend up for our first 5K and was so glad I did. I was proud of myself just for signing up, let alone running it! The run was a little rough at the end and the sun had really started to rise, shine and heat up during the last mile, but I just kept going, all the while thinking about the last 365 days of my life. My mind was racing with how much I had already overcome in my first 29 years, times when I succeeded in spite of circumstances and how I could now survive any new adventures. Panting and beaming, I crossed the finish line with my mom and dad waiting for me at the end with proud parent faces and the camera ready.

It was the first time my parents have attended one of my races and they were awesome! They met me at the starting line, cheered me on mid-way with cups of water and bananas and were at the finish line to tell me how proud they were of my running efforts. And that's when it hit me. Today was a stolen moment. It's not about getting to the next adventure. It's about enjoying the one I'm experiencing today.

Apparently, I'm a giant goof when I'm out running. Sheesh.

I can't believe I almost bailed on this race. I almost said, "Fuhgetta bout it!" and hit the road on yet another wild trip to new cities, but something told me it wasn't time to leave yet. Something whispered to me, "Stay a little while longer." I'm so glad I listened.

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.