It seems like there have been a lot of Good Fridays recently. A visit home, my birthday, the annual union picnic, a couple of galas… I’ve lost count of how many there have been but, it’s safe to say, it’s been quite a few Fridays since I’ve been home, wrapped in my favorite bathrobe, by 8:00. And last night, it felt pretty damn good.
The week has been draining. A cold is kicking my ass, our world feels increasingly out of control and I can’t seem to find the time to take care of everything in my usual fashion. After a really physically active week (26 miles and 2.5 hours of yoga)last week, I’ve been too exhausted to exercise in recent days and so I’ve felt sick and sluggish. Not a good combination for me mentally, to be honest.
So, last night I decided to push myself and take a run for the first time in a week. I figured if I couldn’t run consistently because of the hacking cough I’m currently victim of, I’d walk. I just needed to try.
It was nearly dark when I hit Delaware Avenue and I wondered if maybe I had underdressed. Should I have worn gloves? A hat? The thermostat said it was a moderate 55 degrees, but my body has been struggling to maintain an even temperature and I felt a little chilly. I found myself, surprisingly, running a bit faster than usual. The miles started to add up.
As always, my thoughts ran with me. I reflected on memories recently made and how different my life is from last year, from even six months ago. Letting go, and making the changes necessary to open myself up to something new, has been difficult for me. It feels like a combination of walking, running faster than it seems I am, and not necessarily being prepared for whatever lies ahead. And worth trying, of course.