Keeping Pace

Keeping Pace

what I can and can’t do

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On the way home from work, I pass the runners doing their post-work thing by the creek trail. I watch the ponytails swing and the sweat drip. It looks delicious. But I try not to long for this. I can’t. Not with a broken toe.

It is Monday night, and YaYa is off doing some volunteering at a local charity. He won’t be home for hours. It would be the perfect opportunity to attend the hot vinyasa for it is my favorite yoga class. Ah, but I CAN’T.

I can’t do much these days. But there are some things that I CAN do. I can now do child’s pose, get into a shortened downward facing dog, stand on my head, and do many of the arm balances that I love. It’s something; it’s just not enough to be able to attend a class. My pace is slow and my practice abbreviated. 

Yet, I do my best to give thanks for what I can do and let go of the disappointment of all that I am missing.

Missing Hopkinton

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Memories of my trip to Massachusetts to run in the Boston Marathon are stimulated this morning as I watch the Boston Marathon posts hit my FB feed. I think back to that grand adventure — my gracious host, the sights and sound of Boston and the surrounding areas, the bus ride to Hopkinton, the RACE itself with its ups and DOWNs, and seeing Ryan and Kurt W. — and smile. 

Today, I sit at home, missing the bus ride to Hopkinton, and reflect.  It was such a beautiful experience. One built on 9 hard years of blood, sweat, and many tears. I don’t know if I’d appreciate it the same way if it just came easy. Who knows? All I know is that I look back at all the hurdles put in my way and smile with the deepest of pride. 

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cycles of life

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Life is cyclic. Sometimes it is as predictable as the coming and going of the seasons. Other times it is a varied as the menstrual cycles of a peri-menopausal woman. *sigh* I’m learning a little bit about that these days. But I digress. This is not about that.

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My running coach once reminded me, when I’d been suffering from injury for way too long, that our sporting activities also have seasons. “This is just not your running season,” he remarked, “but it will come again.”

Sometimes I wonder if it is my season for any sporting activity. Every one of mine was hit hard with my back issue and now I am gradually picking them up again. I do a little of this and a little of that, but none all that well. Even yoga has been hit hard.

Much to my disappointment, it’s hard to roll out my mat, lace up, or get back in the saddle. I’m hoping it will pass. Until then, I just need to make myself get out and do it. I don’t need to do it long, or hard, or even be good at it. I just need to get out and do it.

This cycle of life will soon be leaving me to move on to another — hopefully a better one.

Criss-cross Applesauce

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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.

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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…

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Moved to move

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The other day, while playing the game of Google Reader Catch Up, I came up on a few posts from Anne on Run DMZ. The first to capture my attention talked a little about how some perceive their running as a selfish act and therefore it can be the first to go out the window when the demands of everyday life begin tugging at your conscious. My comment was something to the effect of how we can look at running as a way we take care of ourselves so that we are better equipped to take care of others. It’s much like putting the oxygen mask on yourself before placing it on your child – saving two lives instead of one.

I read a few more posts before landing on a post with an imbedded video. I clicked and was immediately captivated and inspired. I was moved…to lace up my shoes and RUN.

And although I did not have the sort of run that the video (or advertisement) shows, actually getting out on the trail again puts me that much closer to experiencing this sort of running again. Believe me, I miss it.

I’m sure you’ve noticed, there has been a shift since my B2BS experience and subsequent break from running. Although necessary, I never quite made it back. What running I have done this year, didn’t even get logged in my BTT running log – and I have entries as far back as May 2005. Although I now feel it healthier to not be such a slave to a training schedule and/or running log, I do need to get serious about logging the miles physically – regardless of whether or not they show up in my BTT sidebar. You see, there is this little race in October that I am registered to run.

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