I’ve always been irritated by the use of qualifiers when describing a run. I suppose for elites or people who get paid to run, saying things like “that was a good run…..for her,” or “I just did a really slow run,” makes sense. But when you’re describing a run of the mill runner, like me, I think it only serves to pass sideways judgement, against someone else, or against yourself. The world of casual running has no place for qualifying language! If you run, you are a runner. Similarly, just because you haven’t been on a run in awhile doesn’t negate your runner identity. Get up. Get out. Start again.

So that’s that, and lately, I’ve been doing a lot of running away, from things, people. I don’t recommend that. There’ve been some changes in my work life over the past year – as in, I was “reorganized” out of a job. No worries. It had become a job that I dreaded going to every day. In hindsight, it was probably one of the better things that could’ve happened to me at the time. Being escorted to the door like a common criminal did not make for a good day, and I don’t recommend it to those of you who are in a position to “reorganize.” Do it nicer than that, and the person you’re reorganizing out might not think you’re such an ass. Months later, that is what sticks in my craw the most. Speaking of identity, what a way to have it sucked from your soul: pack up your stuff, don’t let the door hit you on the way out, and by the way, nothing you’ve done here for the past 8 years matters to us. Yep, it happened. But I digress, and I’ve got to let that shit go. Get up. Get out. Start again.

So running has taken a back seat. And I’ve been thinking about moving. Not just my body by way of running – which I have not been doing lately, but I’ll get to that later. No, really moving. Away. A move to Boston. Can you imagine?! Right now it is still a dream. If you know me well, you know that it is a long-time dream of mine; to live in that glorious city for awhile,  work there, be there. Well, it makes me happy just thinking about it. That will be a follow up blog post, hopefully sooner rather than later. Stay tuned.

Boston (North Square) in Winter, photo courtesy of Bret Clancy via Instagram

Meantime, running, as in life…. I read something recently, hence part of the title of this post, on a Buddhist website that said something like the grass may always seem greener on the other side, others always seem to have it better than you, etc., etc., but that one always must be mindful of the fact that no matter where you go, you have to take yourself with you. That resonated with me. I think my general status/mood/state of mind for the past few months has been, to put it delicately, fucked. I was generally fucked before, during, and after the 2016 NYC Marathon, which I rallied and pushed through to the finish line. That was a terrific day, but it probably wasn’t obvious to anyone who isn’t close to me that I was struggling. I was happy to have trained, and so happy to have finished that race. But it will be my last marathon. I stopped enjoying the REALLY long runs, and honestly the fact that I had promised myself that I never had to do that again is part of what got me through it. I was struggling with running, and with life in general.

At the NYC Marathon Finish Line

To that end, I basically stopped running after crossing the NYC Marathon finish line. That was last November. Oh, I’ve been out here and there, but nothing resembling a schedule, or a goal. Having been stuck in the recesses of my brain for so long, I had forgotten that the day after last year’s Boston’s Run to Remember, I signed up for THIS year’s Boston’s Run to Remember half marathon. I only today realized that it is a mere 10 WEEKS away. Oh, what?

2016 Boston’s Run to Remember Half Marathon

Once again, I feel like running is going to quietly save me. I’m not running regularly again, yet. But I have a plan, which starts today. So, still, I run. Still, I plan for what’s next. Still, I make way for the twists and turns that life throws my way. My heart is opening up again.

Wherever you go, there you are. Not profound, but so true. I’ve got one shot, so far as I know.

Get up. Get out. Start again. See you out there.