A 7-8 miler early this AM was strong and cranky. Strong because I felt fluid and fast, I kept a good clip up even against my fatigue. Sometimes I can do this. When I can it feels fierce and powerful, and makes me feel capable of handling anything. Cranky because I could feel aches and pains moving around, mostly centered on my top thigh, hip flexor. The muscles that support me feel so tangible, and yet as malieable as molecules dancing in fast motion, shift and shimmy, up and down, gripping, loosening, gripping again.
The support I've been feeling is tangible, and like rock, something I can break against, with all my rage and sorrow and acquiesence, sure to find something to contain me, and channel me forward. It's a slow go this season; I had hoped to hover around 50 mpw, really train for the terrain of the endurance half in September. But the shape of the future was coming, and I sensed it all along.
So this is okay, and new. To increase, even by increments, my degree of support and love. It is the miracle of my feet, my legs, ribcage, neck and arms, the steady cadence of the beat in my ears, and the whooshwhoosh of breath from my lungs- this is what carries me every lonely mile, around and about the ones I love.
You are supporting me still. You who are unseen and felt in the terrible times. You who understand, embrace, accept. The Beneficent Ones are always here to steer us clear, even while we scale the most ominous cliffs.
Stay on your feet. The rest of the distance will take care of itself.
No comments:
Post a Comment