Blustery, drizzly, Mother Nature threw her smorgasboard of elements at me as I headed out for my Sunday long run. All the way up to heading out the door I was unsure where or what distance to tackle, given the impact of last week's 'half-marathon' training....but once out decided I like the visit to the beach every weekend: so off I went heading east, into the winds.
So once more I settled into a long, resistance stretch, working into a gear that I could maintain even out on Dania Beach Blvd with the winds slowing me to a near walk, as I made it over the bridge and down onto the beach. My energy was holding and as always, the ocean spread Her shifting surf and skies up and down the wide open coastline, shimmering in hues of turquoise and emerald in an ever-fluid dynamo of change....My thoughts falling open to the gains and losses this week, the success stories and the tragedies, including Mike, felled by the disease of addiction.
I took my time at North Park, filling my water bottles and taking electrolytes and a few 'chews' to keep my stamina up for the ride home, and headed out over the Sheridan St. bridge. The photo attempts to capture a rainbow as it hit the clouds just as I made it up the rise: the shot taken through the plastic pouch I stash the iphone in on my belt- even still, look closely; can you see the faint bar of color just on the horizon line?
Buoyed by this delight, I got a nice rhythm going heading west and the busy stretch of other runners and bikers passing me on their way to the beach. As I made my cut south I settled blissfully into sunshine and solitude, enjoying my meandering way through the parallel neighborhoods as is now my habit, chatting up a few kids as I passed by, appreciating that each time I do this run, it feels a little more 'normal', comfortable, doable until I come again to my connection to Taft. Just as I made my turn, the skies opened with swathes of heavy, blowing rain! I tucked into my hooded top and walked the last miles home, pummeled by the wet winds, coming up to my end point like a drowned cat - happy to have a hot shower and big breakfast waiting.
As much as I'd like to make my long runs predictable by controlling the miles or route, making the challenge familiar and routine, the world has a way of throwing creative chaos into our well-structured lives. Within the di-urnal cycle, the expression of weather and the elements outside and within our bodies gives us the nuances of physical experience. There is something reassuring about throwing oneself into this, while knowing the structure of home, etc. supports us. Even the ups and downs of work and relationships are contained within the knowledge of cycles as they continue to unfold.
Mike, I would have stood in your way if I could; I would save you from yourself. I ran with you heavy in my heart even as I knew your wife and family cry for you, miss you. In the world you may now inhabit, I pray for your soul to find it's way into the Love you've been looking for all this time. And be free. I run on....
No comments:
Post a Comment