Runnin' Down a Dream

I was reading a blog post the other day from a woman who is vegan and a health nut and a runner. Yeah, she's one of those people that just run for no reason, get all hot and sweaty and sore and out of breath when they could be reading a book or sleeping. People I have never been able to understand, but still have always envied. Her post talked about why she ran, and how it made her feel, and how sometimes she cried during a run, and sometimes she got a chill from the intensity of the emotions, and how it was hard, but she dug deep down into herself and got through it.

This has never been something I have done. I would much rather write about someone who does this. I could interview her and write a nice article about her accomplishments. But could I ever do it myself?

That night I had a dream that I did. I was running. A chill ran through me, and I completely understood what she was talking about. It was a very powerful moment. I could do it.

I realize there is more to being a runner than just running around for no reason. I realize that it's not just good for your body, but for your soul, as well. I know that intellectually, but have never really experienced it personally.

I have been thinking about personal discomfort, and what it does for you mentally. Todd's softball league had a family potluck on Sunday night, and the heat and humidity were terrible. My brother and his family were there, too. It started out as a miserable disaster of an evening. Drew refused to get out of the van. We played a quick inning of kickball before eating. Garrett fell and slid into third base, scraping up his leg. He was in the van crying that he wasn't going to play anymore. His leg wasn't that bad. We had to drag Drew out of the van to eat, and then he only ate a Rice Krispie bar. The Mexican pasta salad that I had brought turned out to be a disaster, as when I bit into a bite of avocado, it turned out to have gone bad. And the salad was full of them. I looked around but only a couple of people had taken the salad. I was embarrassed. Hot. Sweaty. Disgusted with my wimpy kids. The good thing was the watermelon that someone had brought. He walked around cutting off chunks for everyone.

After eating and visiting a bit, we played a real game of kickball. Garrett decided he would play. After a few minutes, Drew even joined in the game. And Grace played.

It was the cutest thing I had ever seen. Todd went along side her, coaching her. She waited for the ball to come with her leg back, ready to kick. She usually missed. When she did kick it, the smile on her face was priceless. She ran her little heart out to first base, jumped up, and stomped on it with both feet. Todd ran along with her so she would know where to go. Pretty soon she was doing her usual "I can do it myself!" Everyone was laughing and cheering her on.

We all had a blast. My brother's little boy, age five, is one of the best natural athletes I have ever seen, and I am dead serious. Even others were commenting that he was better than the rest of us. That kid is awesome! And cuter than hell.

We were all covered in sweat when we were finally done, even though it was getting dark. I had been running, and it was fun! It felt good. I wasn't in pain. I wasn't miserable. Maybe I can do it...

The humidity has finally broken today, and it feels great outside. I am actually ready for fall to come...I am anxious to make soup again, and other cold-weather meals. I think I am ready to go back to work.

And I am going to join the fitness center in town and find out how wonderful getting in shape will make me feel.