So, here is a fundamental truth about me: I do not LIKE running. I mean, I run. In fair weather. And by fair weather I mean 50 to 60 degrees outside. But I don’t like it. I’ve been running (in fair weather) since 2002ish. I’ve had plenty of time (March/ April and September/ October of most years) to show myself that I don’t really like it. But I do it because it’s efficient, inexpensive, and easy to make happen (as opposed to getting to the gym), and because I like the afterglow of running (my mind is on fire after a run) and, well, because I support causes that invite me to participate in a run or two (during fair weather season) and so I need to be ready for said runs.
During my running season, I do it in the morning. Before breakfast. Before consciousness even. Just a few days a week. Two maybe. If I am pushing it, three times. And I just gut it out and then go home. If it’s drizzly or cold or after breakfast, I don’t do it. There are other ways I like to be healthy and move my body and I just employ those during unfair weather season. So we all understand that I am a fair weather and disloyal runner, right?
Except for I just recently blew my mind by starting to run FOUR days a week. And then I ran in the rain- by choice. And then, the other night, I went after dinner. With food in my stomach. In seventy degree weather. And it was hard as all get out (because there was food in my stomach and I was conscious) and I still liked it. I LIKED THE FRIGGIN’ UNCOMFORTABLE RUN.
And I didn’t even know who I was.
When I walked in after my run, BF looked stunned. Stunned, I tell you. You see, he was putting Happy to sleep when I decided, impulsively, to go on the run. He has certainly never known me to run at night or to do it from a non-begrudging place. And on a whim? Craziness.
Lately, my run afterglow has been lasting even longer than usual. Who is to say what’s that about but here’s what is interesting to me… you can believe something is fundamentally true about yourself, about the world, about others, whatever, and then, suddenly, be exposed to something that shows you that maybe it’s not true at all. Maybe something else is becoming true instead. My new interest in running has me thinking about how we can become fundamentalist about ourselves, dogged even, in what we believe to be true, and, yet, the reality is that it ALL evolves, we are malleable. We change and grow and become more open to things over time (or less interested in things,too- it goes both ways). I love that this fundamental thing that I thought to be true about me– I don’t like running– is dancing with me a little bit, teetering on the edge of maybe not so true anymore, and opening me up to all sorts of possibilities (what else might I like a little bit more than I thought I did). Not marathons or anything like that (seriously, I don’t like it that much. And for the record, it is in the 30s this morning, and I am not going running) but the possibility of knowing that we can always grow, we can always adapt, the world is always open to us, and we, as it turns, out just need to be interested and willing.
Have you blown your own mind about anything lately?