At dinner this evening my wife asked me what my blog has to do with running. She can be efficient at times, which drives me crazy, but she balances me out so it’s all good. I did my best to explain and told her running is a metaphor for moving forward in life and my blog is an attempt to capture an epic adventure in which a man is called out of obscurity to discover and embrace his destiny. In doing so he discovers and begins to live his life's purpose.
She wasn’t buying it so to appease her reasonable senses I will now “efficiently” write about something I don’t know anything about – running (except for what I have Googled).
Today I woke up at 7:35 a.m., snoozed 7 times (yes the habit is back), and ran for 10 minutes. Minute 5 begged me to quit. Minute 8 told me the end was near. Minute 10 danced for joy with me. Then the gremlin minute 110 (time needed to run 10 miles) laughed at me in my mind. Running requires physical and mental endurance. You need to have a running plan, the right shoes, and learn to breathe properly while monitoring your heart rate. Recovery time and stretching is important. Master the art of running and you can excel in all areas of your life. The end.
Happy Babe?
Now back to what’s really on my mind. Why does life change make you feel sick?
I once read that life change can be compared to swinging from one trapeze bar to the next. When you’re holding the first bar, life’s comfortable. When you grab the second bar, life’s comfortable again. What’s not comfortable is the time spent flying between the bars. It can be thrilling and nauseating at the same time - just ask my kids.
Tonight I was being a bit of a gremlin (maybe the 110 mile thing had me concerned) so to shake the bad vibe I decided to do something fun. My 3-year-old was crying because his brother accidently bumped into him and knocked his beloved french fries to the floor. To lift his spirit I grabbed him by the forearm and calf, swung him back and forth like a pendulum, and released him into the air over my bed. He shouted with glee as he flew through the air and then begged to do it again. My daredevil 5-year-old witnessed the whole thing and demanded I throw him into the air twice as high! He too shouted with joy and this game went on until I almost threw out my shoulder. Everyone forgot about the french fries on the floor except for my 1-year old daughter who secretly ate them while we were playing (damn those golden arches and their savvy marketing).
On a side note, I am not that strong (yet) so they really were only about 6 inches above the bed. Dad if you’re reading this I think it might have been more like 1 inch, but need to embellish the story a bit for my fans.
The lesson in all of this? Joy is not found in the comfort of the past or the future. It's found flying through the air and screaming with joy as you do. Some call this the moment. Remember to live it. This is what running, and life, is all about.
No comments:
Post a Comment