A Reason to Run (Part 4)

A place where I learn that his mercies are new every morning

 

 

 
We took off as usual, Lizzy enthusiastically and impatiently pulling me as if there was something pressing and oh so urgent that just couldn't wait another minute. Only this time she tugged with the extra power generated by a two week pause that stored more energy than I could keep up with. It was a beautiful Saturday morning, 55 degrees, sunny and inviting. I was so glad I had made myself prioritize my running again; happy to get those neglected shoes back on the pavement. I breathed in and I breathed out. I inhaled peace and I exhaled burden. I inhaled wisdom, exhaled defeat. And even though I was out of shape, my rhythm was soothing and life giving. It felt like I was embracing a long lost friend.

It’s good for the soul to start over again, to never give up even when it’s hard. Getting in a good run and feeling good about myself always motivates me to productivity, harmony and love. I spent the rest of my day making pies, cookies, and chocolate covered strawberries in preparation for Mike’s impending birthday.

Life that day was good and all was well with the world even if it had been 2 weeks since my last run. Days like that make me glad that I didn’t quit or give up.

Unfortunately, most days don’t feel like that to me, you know?

2013 was a hard year, and it has been a long, cold winter in North Texas. I sit here with 15 added pounds dragging my body as I stare at the familiar computer screen for the millionth time, adding up to billions hours, I'm sure of it, feeling like a complete failure and wondering when on earth am I going to stop rewriting this post; I'm also wondering how I will make it through another day.

This January I ran nine times and logged a total of 26 miles, I wrote one blog post. In February I ran three times and logged a whopping eight miles, I wrote this one post. At least it was better than December, the month I did NOTHING but work my butt off in retail so I could pay off a credit card dept I had acquired compliments of my year long attempt to not be depressed.

Depression is hard on the body and hard on the soul. It promotes defeat that spends its energies searching for life. And for me, that means adding up dept, and adding up pounds.

Most days getting out of bed in the morning is not a given but a choice.

 

Yesterday I managed to get out of bed. And tomorrow I will choose to get out of bed. And the day after that I will get out of bed again. Because it’s good for the soul to start over again, to know that I have another chance to exhale what overwhelms me and inhale hope, to breathe out resentment and breathe in joy, to let go of disappointments and embrace love.
There is a chance it will be a good day. And I’m willing to take it.

I will get up, and no matter what, I will be glad I did.