For various reasons, I was feeling a little down today. I slept pretty late and felt tired all morning, so to prevent myself from coming straight home and taking a nap, I dragged myself to Cafe Haus in Diamond Bar to get stuff done. Sometime in between taking sips of tropical passion iced tea, writing letters, chatting with Ariel, reading Tozer and journalling, I decided that I felt like running.
This is a highly unusual occurrence. Like once in a lifetime. I don’t know that I can recall another time in my life when I felt like running. I detest running. Especially running for the sake of running. As opposed to running away from a cheetah in hot pursuit. Or from the fuzz (do people even say that anymore?). Maybe it has something to do with going to bed at 4:30 AM –a sleep deprivation-induced moment of weakness.
Whatever the case may be, I ran. 2.7 miles, according to Google Maps. I realize that running is as much a battle of willpower and determination–two things I could use right now–as any other activity. About three-quarters of the way through my run, there’s a little bit of an incline which, at first glance, seems harmless, until you’re huffing and puffing and your calves are screaming for relief (okay, so I’m exaggerating a little bit).
I told myself, “Okay, Lynnette, if you can get to the top, you can walk a little bit.” And then when I got to the top, I rewarded myself by continuing on. Yeah, I’m surprised too. I rounded the corner without stopping or slowing down (the photo was taken right then). After that, I felt like I could go on running for another hour or two. I’m not that crazy, of course, but the fact that it crossed my mind at all says something.
I think that’s the kind of feeling I’m looking for right now, a second wind that spurs me on and keeps me going, even when I think I don’t have the energy or strength. I’m not sure where or how to find it, but I guess that’s the idea: you have to keep running.