Although the proverbial “arctic blast” is apparently bearing down on us, we were gifted this morning with relatively balmy temperatures for our run. One pair of gloves even did the trick. Not bad for January running in Michigan. Still, there were a few left over icy patches here and there, and one of my buddies took a tumble on one. She’s a trooper, though, and we still managed to cover close to six miles. It was a super run, followed up with hot chocolate and chocolate chip muffins. (Yeah, it was naughty, but we earned it, right?)
I have finally acknowledged to a few of my buddies that I am packing to leave. They are, true to form, supportive. They process this as we keep moving along, running the roads and the trails. Everyone seems to agree that this is a good place to leave, and they’d probably do it too if they had the chance. It doesn’t make the whole thing any less scary.
How does one quite start over? Because I guess that’s the business I’m going about right now. It sounds very simple, bud-a-bing, but it’s not. The evolution of emotions that leads one over time to look around and realize that the things around them are just things, that life must be more than this amalgamation of what’s left, that the very most important treasures of life cannot be grasped and held, that there is, apparently, more to the story ….this evolution is profound and peaceful and disturbing and crazy and wonderful and horrible.
I would write about it all, but I ache, it hurts to feel these words that want to rise and flow through my fingertips. The cusp of change – it’s daunting, terrifying. I am so close I can taste it. What is happening is radical, intense. It will all look different when the dust settles.
At the same time, life just flows. So there I am. Running companionably along with my buds, chit chatting. Feeling the same cold air, the pavement under our feet. We recognize ourselves in each other in all the mundane and huge things we talk about, our laughter, commiseration. We watch each other change and grow, work things out, cope, rejoice – all as we keep the pace. The running itself has been both a catalyst and an anchor.
When I stop to think about it, the changes I have been privileged to witness in the other people in my running group have been profound and amazing and beautiful.
Why should I be any exception?