Running from My Problems?

I have started running again.  Half a dozen years ago I decided to run, then run a half marathon.  Then a couple more.  I never thought I could run that far, especially starting in my 40s.  I did, and the euphoria of crossing the finish and sporting a medal as proof was indescribable.

The last Half I ran was pretty crappy.  It was 40 degrees and rained the entire 13.1 miles.  I actually considered bailing the morning of the race, because the forecast was hideous.  But it was an out-of-town race,  we already had the hotel, and I had already picked up the packet.  So I was gonna do it.  It was my son's 19th birthday, and he was courteous enough to rise out of bed during finals week to watch me run past his dorm.   My worst time to date, but an accomplishment nonetheless.

I quit running after that.  Not because the weather was frigid that day and it turned me away from running, but more because I needed a break.  Running is a time of solitude.  Just you, your thoughts, and (in my case) the Dixie Chicks.  I was not in a place where my thoughts and I needed to spend a lot of time together.   Too much was banging around inside my brain: the loss of both mine and my husband's dad within 16 months, personal strife, shame and vulnerablility among other things.

I definitely needed to clear up some stuff before I wanted to be alone with myself for an hour or three.

I started doing yoga, as many of my faithful readers know.  I did classes, taught classes, and ran a studio at the ranch.  Yes, you have to be alone with your thoughts in yoga too, but with it, you practice mindfulness.  Mindfulness was just what I needed.  It's a practice, meaning we don't win it, accomplish it, or finish it.  We just try.  It taught me many things: acceptance, forgiveness, and strength to name a few.

This year I turn 50.  As I welcome in the second half of my life, I decided I should mark it with some milestone accomplishment.  I always opined I could never run a marathon.  It takes too long to train, and it's the distance from Fort Worth to Dallas, for crying out loud.  Why would someone run that far?

So, I signed up for one.

I've made it through the first year of working on my doctorate, and I didn't die from that.  So why not a marathon? I figured, what the hell, other old people run 26.2 miles, why can't I?  I am a month or so back into training, still slower that the internet in the 90's, but I have spent the time on my legs.  That is what will get me across the finish.

Why is this part of the minimalism thing, you ask?  I like to think running is minimalist.  All you need are some shoes and a road (and a sports bra probs).  No membership or machines needed, although I did invest in some bluetooth headphones because I always run with the Dixie Chicks.   I remember doing a training run a few years ago in West Texas when I was there on a trip.  I couldn't see the end of the road, so I just kept running. I guess I would stop when I got to the border.  It was great.

My head is clearer now, likely thanks to yoga and therapy.  I am good with running with my thoughts and letting them bounce around in there, reminding me that you can run with your problems, and not from them.  I'll let you know how the last 0.2 miles of the marathon feels in December.  I know the finish will be magic.