Pink Snowflakes

 

The past few weeks I have really started to get back into a rhythm with running and working out.  It feels so good.  I made some changes, getting up a little earlier and utilizing the Strava running coach app, Runna.  I personally love the guidance and having the workouts written out for me.  It saves me from the should I run 3 or 6 miles or maybe I should just lift today and do a long run tomorrow – wasted time of indecision piling sometimes days, weeks, months high without any runs.  Runna solved that for me but I also started to realize I like having that “coach” guiding me, telling me what to do, how fast to run, challenging me, encouraging me, and pushing me beyond spaces I would push myself. It pushes me to do hard things and I think I really needed the reminder that I can still do hard things. (I have no skin in the game with Strava or Runna aside from being a user)

 

The other day I was in the middle of a particularly challenging tempo run and wasn’t sure I was going to be able to finish, one more over under.  When it gets hard, I think of how hard Aidan fought and that always pushes me a little further along.  I’m not sure if it’s the grief or the anger that fires up inside but something pushes me beyond what I believe I can do in that moment. As I prepared mentally to push my body again for the next challenging repetition, my watch cued me to move into the cool down portion of the run. I must have miscounted the repetitions as I just focused on each rep building and getting more challenging.  As I allowed my heart rate and breath to slow and ease into the cool down on the last hill back home I felt so proud of pushing myself that morning before the sun had even peaked from the horizon, the sky just turning that light navy blue telling the world the sun is coming.  I settled into the cool down run and allowed my thoughts to wonder.  I am feeling strong again. God, I love running in the dark and feeling accomplished before most people have even gotten out of bed.  But why do I love the dark mornings so much?

 

There is so much peace and so many quiet sounds. I can hear my soul speak to me.  But as I moved through this last mile I began to realize it’s so much more.  I am still so broken. Maybe all this running is just to look strong and hide how broken and defeated by life I still so often feel.  For roughly one hour every morning when no one can really see me (aside from my lighted vest) I can put on my armor for the day, get strong, and hide behind this strength that I feel is so expected of me.   But it’s also so much more than that.

 

As I made my way back home I ran under one of those beautiful majestic pink flowered trees that line many of the streets in our town this time of year and always make me feel so lucky to live where I live.  As I ran under this one tree illuminated by the street lights, a gentle breeze blew and the soft pink petals began to fall on me like gentle pink snowflakes.  And maybe it was the intensity of the workout or maybe it’s my middle aged hormones just making everything in life more emotional but I was suddenly sobbing and I didn’t know why.  Running and sobbing, in the dark. Something released in me and I was sweating and crying alone in the dark, my heart racing moving uphill trying to just refocus on my breath and the sound of my feet moving forward and grateful for the dark morning that no one would see how ridiculous I must seem right then.    

 

And just as quickly as the sobbing hit me it stopped like a summer heat thunderstorm passing quickly over to cool everything down and my breath just calmed.  I turned back briefly to see the pink petals left on the ground behind me.  Maybe that’s what life is constantly showing and teaching us. It all comes and goes, leaves, flowers, snow, grief, anger, strength, joy, butterflies, love. It’s just all part of the  eternal transformation of life.