It’s early in the morning. I sit in my bed, sipping a cup of coffee and easing into my day. My morning reading consists of several SPAM messages in email, and only a few new FB posts since I last checked in. Combined, the the two capture only a few minutes of my time. I reach for my book and read a few pages. However, I am quickly irritated with the character for carrying a pack load in excess. How many pages will it take for her to get a clue? Knowing that this is part of her journey offers little to ease my annoyance.
The book soon returns to my bedside.
Outside, I hear the footsteps of a runner. THAT, I think, is what I’d like to do with my morning lull. But I know better.
It’s been a week since my last run; a teaser of sorts. Long enough to remind me of how much I love running, yet just enough to remind me that my body had not been fairing well since the end of our backpacking trip.
The onset of pain after my return to 8 long hours of sitting at my desk, rather than during a week of trekking through the backcountry, is proof that our bodies are not meant for sitting for extended periods of time. They are meant to move.
Sadly, I’ve resorted to swallowing NSAIDs morning and night for coming up on a week now. Just enough to stop the sciatic pain shooting down my leg, but not enough to fully resolve the issue.
I don’t dare run until my latest pain is at bay and my body is pain free once more. One feeble attempt to raise my left leg, as if running, tells me I’d be a fool to give it a go.
And so, I wait…
I cross my fingers, hopeful that my chiropractor with put my sacroiliac joint back in place and return my spine to it’s normal mobility. Then, I will be able to run and play to my heart’s content. Then, I will be able to climb into bed without wincing. Then, I will slip on my vibrams (or lace up my shoes) and head out for the runs I love so much. It is on these run where I find a sense of clarity, as well as a coolness in the simple things we pass by everyday without noticing.
When I took this picture, of where the footbridge passes under the street, I was drawn to the crisscrossing lines. Of all the photos I stopped my run to take in, this is the only one that really captured the essence of what my eyes actually saw. Photography is like that; you cross you fingers and hope that your artistic talents, coupled with whatever camera you have at your disposal, will be able to allow you to take home a little souvenir of your travels.