I still run. A couple of times a week, usually. The reason I mention it is because people have been asking. I suppose they are asking because I haven’t mentioned running here on this Mother Runner blog for a while. And the reason I haven’t mentioned it is because there hasn’t been anything to say. Running has been very ho-hum for me lately.
In the past, it has been a time for me to de-stress, to loosen up the mental and emotional knots I sometimes get tied in, to chase after inspiration or to let it stumble across my path. But for several months now it has just been something to do. I haven’t trained for any races or committed myself to run a certain number of miles or a specific pace. My focus has been elsewhere, and I’ve just wanted my running to be comfortable.
But then again, I don’t know where my focus has been. It feels as though a lot of my life has been in the same place as my running: comfortable. And while there is a big part of me that feels like that is exactly where I want to be right now—that I deserve a little bit of time to curl up and just be—there is that other part that is feeling anxious.
Anxious because I’m stressed about being comfortable. And I didn’t really realize it until today, when I was out running. I was trying to decide if I wanted to go an extra mile. Time was a little tight. Little Miss fell back asleep right after the boys went to school and took a long nap. We didn’t get out until almost lunchtime, and I had some other errands to run while we were out. Could I squeeze in one more mile and still make it to the store? Still have lunch and make it to pickup on time?
Almost as soon as I made the turn to take the longer route, it clicked for me. Suddenly this run was not ho-hum. Suddenly, I was living dangerously, running in uncharted territory. Suddenly, I had a challenge. And suddenly, I felt inspired. It all made sense.
Of course I haven’t been feeling motivated. Of course I haven’t been able to write like I used to. Of course my running has become so rote that I haven’t even seen anything worth photographing while I’ve been out lately. It’s because I’m not pushing. I’m not trying.
That little revelation led to a lovely afternoon in which not only did I push myself to shop and eat and shower and still get to pickup on time (this is me patting myself on the back), I also managed to daydream a bit and imagine what I could do and what I want to pursue when I’m ready to endure a little more discomfort—to challenge myself to see things with new eyes and to run in a slightly different direction.
ps In case you are interested in the conversation I was part of on HuffPost Live (see previous post), here’s the link.