Thursday, August 4, 2011

Wind.

I like the wind. I like how it sometimes pulls, tugs, and pushes against you, sometimes telling you to go back, today is not a good day - come back another day. Or. Hey come on get out, you need to see the world outside of the four walls in your home. Sometimes it raps at my windows, and I think it got sick of me staying inside so much it might have broken one of the window panes in my room. Oh, don't worry. They aren't sturdy at all, they are those 1970s window panes that are cranked open. They are the cause of the sweltering heat I experience inside my home.  Think sauna, without all the half naked people.

But that wind can be a little rascal. Once, it paired up with it's buddies from Santa Ana, and yes I have to say I was a bit scared. Just a tad. I promised I would go outside more often.  They haven't come back since, but something tells me they will be at it again in fall.

So I promised to Mr. Wind, I'd go outside more often. I face the inner-city conundrum. I could go outside in my little yard to read, meaning I'd have to inhale whatever my neighbors have on the menu to smoke that day, or I could visit my local coffee shop. The only one within a ten mile radius is this coffee chain which isn't too bad today. At least there's trees outside. And wind.

Tonight. I've decided I would play a bit more. I'm going to run. I can finally run three miles with no problem. I mean. Yes. Of course, there's the perspiration. Duh.

But, finally, I could do it without giving up. Without conjuring images of times past that made me stop in my tracks, that caused me to give up. I can finally shed that little chain that I placed on my own ankles, that I myself made into 50lb weights. After four years of constantly quitting my running schedule, I can finally say I'm back. It's been about two and a half weeks that I've been consistent. I even woke up to greet the day on more than one occasion. You don't understand, that seems like very little time. I know. It is.

I used to run seven miles no problem, I used to be good. Actually I was pretty damn good. But I always gave up on myself. One day I gave it all up.  I gave it all up in front of the shattered eyes of my coaches. It was traumatic. So much happened, that it's hard to explain. Running gave me something very valuable. It gave me something I could hold on to when I had no one there, not even when my mom was there for me. Running always kept me going. I shunned it, and my life crumbled before me. It has been a time-traveling experience, and I whole-heartedly welcome it back into my hands.


It's beautiful. The pain. The wind.

 I have one culprit to thank.

Thanks +)

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