You know those runs where everything falls into place; it’s a cool temperature with a slight breeze, your breath and pace align and you feel you could run forever? This is not that type of run.
When you have a broken heart, it feels like a sickness in your bloodstream
I am sitting on the front stoop, lacing my shoes around two cement blocks that will lead me aimlessly around this beautiful neighbourhood. I am so numb that I’m not sure how I managed to get this far. I stand and make my way to the curb. My breath, body and mind are not in synch. This moment is neither is here nor there because time has stopped. I am separated from Mother nature but I don’t want to be. I want so badly for her to save me. I start. Slow and methodical. I am on autopilot. The people I pass don’t see me. They have no idea. My sunglasses hide the tears streaming down my face.
Time passes unnoticed but at some point I feel myself catching up to the present moment. It feels good and I push faster. I am motivated to get there. To feel again. I end where I started but it feels just a bit different. I am a little lighter.
Heading back to the front stoop, I notice the yard needs some maintenance. If I do a little bit everyday, then it won’t seem overwhelming and will eventually start to look the way I want it to again.