My friend Squee saw a Vine I posted this morning, of a Murmuration.
I didn't know it was called that. She sent me this wonderful example of another.
This morning, I shared one of my most favorite things ever with Missy. It's a TED talk by Brené Brown, called The Power of Vulnerability
A few minutes in, she had me stop it, so she could write down several of the things Brené said. Then about halfway in she turned to me and said, "This is an a-ha moment."
I just beamed, and melted a bit inside. She took my phone (where the video was playing) and put it on our bed, and lay down on her stomach to watch the rest of it. I could see her face move with the emotions, thoughts, self-reflection, and epiphanies the talk was causing her to have and feel.
Afterwards, we hugged. She kissed me, thanked me, and told me she appreciates what I give her, the philosophical way I approach life, and my drive to share it with her.
I'm still smiling.
So here's the shirt I wore to the gym yesterday when I ran.
You'll notice it's got this little kind of rust colored mark on it, about halfway down. The shirt is the won I wore to the Parkway Classic, a 10 mile race I did a few years back when I was first getting started running. It was my first big race. I had pinned my number to my shirt with safety pins, like you do, and spent the entire race sweating on them. Then after the race, I took my shirt off, but forgot to take the pins out, and let the whole thing sit for a while.
Which leads to the rust marks on my shirt. They used to really bother me, I used to think of them as a stain. I would actively not wear this shirt to run, because it embarrassed me. I would seek out any other running shirt I had, to avoid recalling that mistake.
But a while back I changed my mind. I've actually come to love this shirt. Because those marks are signs of learning. The very next big race I did, I got myself these loopy clips that go around my stretchy running belt to hold my number.
I'm in the space where I'm learning to run again, learning to make it a priority in my life. When I first found myself back here, it felt almost shameful, like I had lost ground, and now had to work hard to get back to where I was.
In a word, bullshit.
Yesterday I got in a 2 something mile run, doing a 45 second run, 4:15 walk interval. It's starting to become not challenging. During my runs I would sprint, big bursts of speed. It felt good. My plan is to gradually increase that interval, as I feel comfortable. (Meaning maybe early next week I'll be doing 1 minute run, 4 minute walk. I'm aiming at a 3/2 interval, but who knows, maybe I'll go beyond that?"
There's a Lao-tzu quote about this that really speaks to me.
“When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be.”
I am so grateful for each step I take, each day I live.
Yesterday morning I got up around 5, and went to pack my gym bag. Somehow my big collection of running socks has dwindled to a pathetic level. Sure, there were some in the wash, but all I could find was one lonely, mismatched sock. Through attrition, wear and tear, and running misadventure (like the thing a few months back where I bled like a stuck pig through one running shoe), I've somehow reduced the sock population.
(Hey, I know that bleeding shoe thing is gross, but it's not like I hold a gun to your head and make you read this blog.)
Anyhow, on my way home from work I stopped at a running store I'd never been to before, in an effort to repopulate the socks. Total score! Not only did the place carry my favorite brand, Balega, but they were on sale, and they even had a buy 3 get 1 free sale!
Now a fresh new pair is waiting for me already packed in the gym bag, down in my car, calling for me to get on my way so I can run at the gym before work.
I don't know if it's the time change due to daylight savings time, or my recent long car-trip home from North Carolina, but yesterday afternoon at the end of my workday I was exhausted! I caught myself nodding off several times. Thankfully, it was a telecommuting day for me, so I got to do something about it:
I took a nice long nap. It was probably a good 90 minute one. Afterward I felt so much better. There's that old joke about how you know you're actually a grownup when you want a nap, but it's true.