Today I ran. Today I finished setting up my classroom. Today I finally put away the boxes of clothes. Today I finished a Chuck Palahniuk book I started yesterday. But today, today I ran.
I don’t like running. It hurts and burns and makes breathing more laborious that something my body needs to survive should ever be. But running is discipline. Push today and tomorrow I’ll wake up a little stronger, a little leaner and a little more confident that I can handle the problems of the day. As much as I hate it, running gets me from dodging punches to landing them, square in the face of whatever obstacles life decided I needed to confront.
Running, since I don’t own an ipod, is just me and the road and this mean angry lady who keeps yelling in my head “Don’t you dare stop! You’re not even sweating yet! Are you kidding me? One more block. One more block. One more block.” She curses more than that, but my mom reads this sometimes. Or sometimes running is me and the road and 4 miles to figure out my life. Now, go. I’ve solved more than a few problems this way. Mostly though, I run because, as much as I hate it, I hate what happens when I don’t run. It’s not about weight, although that’s a side effect. It’s about not even trying. It’s about sliding into complacency. And that’s the worst kind of taking a punch.
So today I ran. It was slow, short, painful and pretty pathetic, but it was a start.
On a less…intense (? introspective? serious?) note…
Tomorrow I eat lunch with some donors to the Mission and try to visit the Rosebud fair. We’re all pretty excited to blow some of our stipend on shady looking carnival rides, catch some of the rodeo or the wild horse race and watch the pow-wow with all the dancers.