Today is one of those strange February days. It's 57 degrees outside. Sky's a little gray. Not a whole lot going on work-wise. I'm feeling a little anxious. Not nervous anxious. Bored anxious. Want to take a nap but don't have time and know I wouldn't sleep anyway anxious. Having a hard time choking back the blahs anxious.
Happens occasionally. Less often than at many times in my life. Vyvanse helps :) Years of therapy helped. What's helped the most, though, is running.
The last year we lived in Pittsburgh was a tough one for me. I'll not bore with details, but suffice it to say, most days I felt like an abject failure; like I didn't have many friends, and the list was growing shorter; knowing a big change was coming in our lives, but whatever the change was, clouds in my head and in the Pittsburgh sky were doing a nice job hiding it.
It would be good for me to stop here for just a second. I know there were (and are) many, many things in life for me to be grateful for, and as an old friend used to tell me, smiling, 'the sun shines every day.' Sometimes, though, I have had difficulty seeing the sun - even on very bright days.
So, while lots of things were going on in my life and in my head, running was a constant. Even on brutal, snowy days; even when it poured buckets, or the air was filled with only a slightly visible, yet ever present mist. Running was there.
Most often, I'd go out after dinner. A simple 3-5 mile run around our neighborhood. Up and down some challenging hills on Parade, McCaslin and Exeter Streets. Trying to train myself to exhale every 3rd step (I'd heard it helped with cramping). Not really thinking about anything.
What was wonderful about those runs is that once I'd settled into a rhythm, usually a mile or so in, my mind would start to wander. And, not to the stress that had filled the day. No, it filled with much nicer things.
Things like the fact that Friday was coming, and that generally meant lunch with Denise @ Hemingway's, whose spinach artichoke dip, and extreme buffalo chicken were bombdiggity. Friday was also $1 Yuenling day, which made it even nicer. Clearly, nothing was better than Denise taking a long lunch in order to meet me there.
Things like playing basketball with Caleb in Carl's driveway. I couldn't even come close to competing with him, but we had a blast.
Things like walking to/from the bus stop with Emily every day. We had some amazing conversations during those times. She was insightful, even in the 4th grade.
So, I'd run. Focusing on breathing, striding, pacing. Then, just settle into a groove and let my mind wander.
Soon, it didn't matter what the weather was like. Didn't matter that the knife in my back was twisting in 3-4 directions at once. Didn't matter that I had zero sense of direction.
What mattered that my list of things to be grateful for stretched as far as my eye could see.
Soon, I was standing next to Mark Stahlsmith's grill, my nostrils filled with the undeniably blissful scent of slowly cooking meat; I was at Buck Whitlock's dinner table, unable to resist joining in his boisterous laughter. I was on a bench overlooking the rolling, autumn hills of East Tennessee with Bill Westfall, enjoying some theological conversation, praying, or laughing over some silly thing our children had done. I was in the bleachers at PNC Park watching the Pirates with Denise, soaking up some rays and wishing the day would never end. Or lying on the beach in Negril sipping drinks and laughing at how quickly we'd get service simply by raising a flag next to our lounge chairs. I was having a catch with Caleb, seeking to set a new record for consecutive throws without a drop.
And, on February 22, knowing that soon, I'd be celebrating the birth of my out of this world daughter. The girl who's been my hairdresser (and, very likely a large contributor to the amount of hair I have today - she used to cover my head with barrettes and then yank them out, unopened), co-author of my Seminary thesis, teacher, Harry Potter partner, wrestling opponent, NSYNC buddy, fellow fried chicken connoisseur, political debater and so much more.
Running always has a way of cutting through the clouds. Once a person's mind is clear, the sunlight of gratitude shines so brightly that, even if just for a little while, there's a new spring in your step, reason to raise your head, and hurry home to the people who love you simply because you exist.
Even though I didn't get to run today, just thinking about it did the trick.
Happy Birthday, Em! And, thanks!
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