Maybe it’s the holidays. Maybe it’s the break neck pace. Maybe it’s the (whispers)… menses :/
But whatever it is, it was operating in full force this morning as “it” proceeded to wreak havoc on my mental state, paying complete and total disregard for my usual upbeat personality with which I greet the day. The brilliant sunrise, the piping hot cup of morning java, even the toasty warm weather did nothing to dispel…this cranky state in which I came to dwell.
A run. Yes, that’s the ticket. Always a run will refresh anything within me feeling dead…so off we go~ Lacing up the shoes, tugging on my tank, and prepping the ponytail…wide open road, I am ready for you. First step, followed by second stride---now breathe. BREATHE~
The first mile is always the hardest…my muscles aren’t awake yet either…and by the inaudible cries of shrill protest, paired with an irate sense of gross injustice at being drug from their deep slumber and warm bed for this brisk (and brutal) outing—they appear to be non too pleased with this parlay into the pre-dawn paradise of Hawaii’s roadsides. "Shhh" I soothe, as I try to assure them (as well as my brain—which is also putting up quite a fight) that it will feel better soon.
And yes, slowly but surely, as I push through…the muscles begin to let go, I feel them stop resisting, and rallying the troops to work with me…and flow. Likewise, my brain braves the battle of “giving it up”--you know, the worry, the stress, the everything. Gradually, as my legs lift and lengthen, my heart regulates itself to a steady and true beat---thud, thud, thud. My feet somehow match the rhythm—thud, thud, thud-- and all becomes atune—an amazing harmony that heals.
As I continue, the emails waiting to be replied to, the proposal from the client that needs reworking, the latest “misunderstanding” I had with my person, or the helpful, constructive criticism (ah, “advice”) I recently received (unsought of course…) –they melt away—replaced by a myriad of mixed emotions:
Mental Limits Reached.
And I realize again why I run. Sometimes I need to get so tired, that I can't fight myself anymore. And I "get it." I let go, and I realize I am just too damn tired to handle anything else but lying there, with open palms, and letting every other mother 'effin thing pass away...as I listen...and let go.
One day I will figure a way to get to this point of priceless perspective and healing honesty without the need to pound the pavement first…and I do, at times--in moments of shining self-awareness and acceptance, but it is a process…and I know everyday, as I continue to put one foot in front of the other…stride after stride…I am making my way “here”.