In times of crisis, I always hit the road. Sometimes solo, sometimes surrounded by my familiar pack. The breathing, the rhythm, the simple act of propelling myself onward, is a form of prayer for me. Running is my sanctuary; the running community my tribe.
This week, the miles mean even more, and I’m offering them up to those who need healing and peace. May we all find it.
“One might say running is an absurd pastime. But if you can find meaning in the kind of running you must do…then you may find meaning in the other absurd pastime: Life.”
It’s that time of year—time for the PeaceLoveGuac crew to unplug and unwind. Don’t worry, we will return soon with windblown hair and sandy suitcases. And just as I did during our winter break, I’m leaving you with a few suggested nuggets from the archives to keep you company while I’m gone.
Considering everything that has happened in my life over the last several months, the highlights I’m leaving here aren’t exactly bubbling over with joy…but they do give you an honest glimpse into where my head has been since December of last year.
Because I’m more of a glass-half-full kind of girl, I’ll start off with one of the most inspiring memories of springtime.
And here’s one of the brighter moments in a very dark winter that I’m still processing the best I can.
This piece of healing was inspired by a good sweat and an even better soundtrack. I’m happy to report that I’m still running strong despite the heat, and I’ve still got this album in heavy rotation. (I even got to see the awesomeness live in one of the best concerts of the decade. Aw yeah!)
The 504 words of this post were some of the hardest I’ve ever eeked out. And they attracted the most traffic I’ve seen in my 18 months of blogging.
I still can’t visit this post without crying, yet I find myself seeking it out about once a month.
One of my favorite photos of the year? It’s gotta be this one of my very first girl.
I like this shot too, but what I really want you to know is that its caption is more than just a catchy phrase to me. It’s a motto I try to live by every single day. It’s both an anchor and an inspiration. Because here’s the deal: The big picture is so powerful in helping us enjoy the small moments of our lives. And funny enough, the small moments are just as powerful in helping us see the big, big picture.
Chew on that for a while, drop me a note, and we’ll talk about it when I return.
I hit the track this morning with no particular plan except that I wanted to run where I could use my headphones without fear of being snuck upon. I expected nothing in return beyond the usual attagirl from my ego and the notion that maybe I had burned off the calories from last night’s wine.
I plugged in a soaring soundtrack—the same one I’ve been listening to nonstop since December—and I ran. I tuned out and gathered speed, rounding corner after corner until I realized I was doing my least-favorite and most-bemoaned workout. One lap, two lap, break. Repeat.
Again and again and again.
Then, something dislodged inside me and for the first time in several months, I felt strong. And powerful. And dare I say, indefatigable.
My gut and my heart have been sustaining me all these months, holding me upright and giving me much-needed endurance. My legs though, they have been weary and weakened by the simple task of putting one foot in front of the other.
Today, however, these legs propelled me. And when they did, my lungs, too often constricted and anxious, filled easily. The knot of emotions in my stomach loosened and my shoulders gave way, allowing the weight I’ve been carrying to fall behind and offer a tailwind instead.
Lap after lap I ran in the muggy darkness until there was nothing left. Nothing except the wisdom that even as a mess of tears and sweat, I am undeniably intact.
* * *