This morning, for the first time in nearly 3 years I managed to punch out a wobbly, shaky, completely ungraceful run. It was tentative, slow and completely joyous.
You see, I used to be a runner. I loved it. 5K every morning, 10K just for fun. I ran to stay fit, I ran to stay thin. I ran for my head, I ran to stay sane.
In every aspect of my life.
Especially my emotional life.
Because, at my core, I am a runner. When things get too close, I run. When things get too hard, I run. When life is difficult, I run. I had so many stories about how this was a healthy emotional response:
I am distancing myself from negativity
I am starting over
I am a gypsy
Nothing can tame me – I am wild & free
All of them were bullshit.
I was scared
And constantly running from anything that was hard.
Until I came up against this last 3 years.
Physical pain & injury stopped my body from running
Emotional pain stopped my heart from running
Severe anxiety stopped my soul from running
And finally, I had to be still.
I had to confront all the things I have been running FROM
I had to be with them, talk to them, lie down with them, get really close and have conversations with them. I had to play with them, work with them. I had to accept them, integrate them and love them. All the parts of myself I thought I could outdistance if I ran fast enough, have finally caught up and come home to my heart.
And it is in this moment, that I can finally begin to run again.
Towards all of it