So I haven't quit yet. I am still semi-training for that tortuous upcoming race. Except that I took a 10 day break and re-initiated my body back into it this week. It wasn't pretty folks. But, as always, each run gives me plenty of time to reflect on how life is like running. Or how running is like chocolate. (a friend recently tweeted about eating ghiradelli chocolate morsels and I CANNOT get the idea of them out of my stinking head. Thank you, Rachel, for the blog title and for my husband's new understanding that if he leaves me alone with his wild human for 3 days again, he must leave chocolate chips). Digression much?
Anyhow. Day one back into the running shoes was Pa.the.tic. About 1.5 miles in, the cramps had already started?!?! I was talking to a friend to try to pace myself and apparently talked too much (me? noooooooo!) The cramp was not like a stitch. It was a burning that I have never felt and truly could not be alleviated without stopping. So, previously running 6-7 miles without cardiac arrest, I ran 3.5 with 2 stops and a pace that Mary Kate could out crawl. I left defeated and convinced that my $85 race fee would simply be a donation. Maybe we could count it as tithe??
But as I get older, I do find myself a little more forgiving of my shortcomings. I praised my lazy self for at least making the attempt and getting out of bed before our little early riser to attempt that run. And I went back yesterday. I dropped the gremlin in the daycare and said a little prayer over her that she would not cry incessantly. I put my pal Steven Curtis on Pandora and hoped that the good Jesus juju would propel me along.
And propel me He did. I ran long and well and without so much as a cramp. I could have kept going but had a work meeting and a baby to feed. I do NOT love running. But I do love the reminder that less than 48 hours before was one of my worst runs in months. 48 hours later, I felt on top of the world. You really do not know what you're going to get every time you put on your fancy stability running (not tennis, Fr. Tim!) shoe. Some days will be total busts. And some days will be full of energy and confidence.
Just like with mothering, working, praying, being a wife, there are good runs and awful runs. I just have to make the first step, open the Bible, lace up the shoe, smile at the 5:45 am wake up call, go in for a hug after an argument. I can never know where that first step will lead me.
Okay, enough of the metaphors.
Have a great weekend. And if any of you reading happen to have a minute, could you please shoot a prayer for a beautiful woman awaiting hard news on her 5th pregnancy (4 previous miscarriages/still births). She is at the doctor now. Please God, fill this precious girl's arms with a baby.
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