Instead of completing a goal this weekend, I'm beginning a new one. I shouldn't be, but I'm always surprised when my best laid plans go off the planned course. But really, isn't that what makes life interesting?
I had planned, for the past 10 months, to run a half marathon this weekend. Instead, I injured my back a few months ago. Instead of running my race, I went back to PT...back to exercises that seem too easy, back to pain, back to frustration. I forget that I have limits and that I need to respect them and that there's work I need to do to increase those limits. So, instead of completing my half marathon goal, I have a new goal of rebuilding mileage while not ignoring core and leg strength. I'd like to be back up to 10 miles by the time there's snow on the ground. We'll see if the weather agrees...
Honestly, it hasn't been a good 6 months since Ella got sick and the back injury felt like the cherry on top. And it feels like it's only going to get worse before it gets better. I feel like there's this laundry list of things happening to me. I feel like a victim. I'm working on that separately, but today, I got a taste of feeling like myself again. Today I got out there and went running again. It wasn't my first run since the injury, but it was the first when I got back out to one of my favorite routes. I got myself out to the river and the trails. I felt free, I felt cared for, I felt light. Even as I'm rebuilding cardio and my throat burned as I gulped air into my lungs, it's the best I've felt in months.
|One of my favorite running paths along the Charles River|
That running a path is a journey is not lost on me. Clearly, I'm on a journey. I don't yet know where it's leading me, but all that's going on isn't just happening to me, or around me, but for me. This path is mine and it has a purpose. Somehow it's leading me somewhere new. Somewhere I am meant to be; perhaps to something I never knew I always wanted.
Just as a running path has a beginning, just as my new goals are beginning, so does this new journey that I'm on. New running goals are at once painful and beautiful. Only, it's often difficult to see the beauty through the pain and the blistered feet. I imagine this journey will be no different. I am fearful as I move towards this unknown and I am hopeful. I am fearful because I feel as though I have no control over the journey or outcome. I have hope because I know that I have a network of people to help me; my village. They will catch me. They may not even know that they're doing it, but they will catch me.
When I run trails, I can't see the end from the beginning, nor can I see the end of this journey now. I know it's there. I don't know what it looks like, just that it's going to be OK and that I should try to avoid tripping over the roots and rocks. If I do trip, I'm pretty sure that someone in my village knows first aid.