In the right light, at the right time, everything is extraordinary.
I don’t know what my problem was on Monday. The Heels won on Sunday night, taking us to the Final Four. I had a great weekend full of sunshine and amazing runs. But whatever my problem was, I woke up on Monday to driving rain and wind and I was grumpy from minute 1. I stormed around the apartment getting ready for work. I stormed (internally) around the hospital all day with more consults than we had time for. I barked at an ED doc who called with a ridiculous consult. By the time I was done on Monday, I had whipped myself into a full on tizzy. (Is that a word that only my grandmother used? That happens not infrequently to me…)
I had previously planned to head back to Mianus River Park so when I got home, I grabbed my trail shoes and threw on running clothes. My shoulders were up by my ears and I spent the whole drive convincing myself that the trails would be soaked from the rain, that I should quit medicine because it’s so f****** frustrating sometimes and on and on. Whew.
Then I got to Mianus. I got out of the car, I shed my top layer because the sun had come out and it was warm and I ran. And ran. The trails weren’t too muddy or slippery. The park was quiet save for a few peepers and birds. My shoulders relaxed. I zoned out and worked on trail running technique. Minutes passed and the weight of the day, unidentified as it was, lifted. By the time I got back to my car, I felt human again. Ashamed of my day long grumpiness, but human.
Don’t mind the storm clouds floating over Fairfield County…
For me, running can lift the weight off my shoulders, even on the worst days. The ability to pink my cheeks and make me feel like I can handle anything, so long as I have my running shoes. For that alone, I should be eternally grateful but sometimes I just plain forget how good I have it.
How long can you stay grumpy on a run? Anyone else prone to storm cloud days?
Going into my 10 minute test run yesterday I was pretty pessimistic about how I’d feel about it. And sorry for being such a pessimist these days, I chalk it up to the lack of running. So further exploring the pessimistic side I was feeling why go 10 minutes at all, will it really be worth it? Will I feel like crap physically not having run for two weeks and fear not only how long it would take for me to heal the Plantar, but feel like I’ve lost my running mojo and struggle to get back that easy feeling.
But I have to say the 10 minutes was pretty amazing. It felt so good to be running even though I had a throbbing pain in my arch from my Plantar the entire time. To swing those arms, to hit the pavement moving those feet in complete freedom not being attached to some back swinging contraption, to be able to step where ever you wanted, to just run, to do what your legs, arms and entire body was designed to do.
And of course I’m practically tearing up being outside. Even though I was only running in business roads next to the gym it felt glorious and during that 10 minute span I was able to say “good morning” to a fellow runner and say “good morning” to a pedestrian who didn’t say good back and made me feel like stopping and giving him 20 reasons why it really was a good morning.
Ok time to go on a tangent. For all you non-morning runner blog readers (I’m well aware that like a handful of people read this blog, most of which have stopped reading after Sarah left) who are not morning runners, you are missing the “Good Morning” thing. It’s pretty amazing how practically everyone will say and deep down wants to say “Good Morning” to you. It’s like a yawn or a tall glass of orange juice (don’t drink orange juice if you are a runner, if you do don’t forget to chew while you drink) in the morning, it just starts the day off on the right foot.
On afternoon and evening runs I’ve struggled on what to say to those other runners or pedestrians. I’ve tried “Good Afternoon” or “Good Evening” and it’s just weird and I feel like a butler or some stuffy intellectual which one look at me out in the elements I appear quite the opposite. And no matter what I say people just don’t seem to be as receptive as they are in the morning.
And speaking of being receptive I’m shocked at how affected/upset/disappointed I get when I say good morning and the other person doesn’t say it back, even after we’ve made brief eye contact. Many times I continue running and do a quick double check to see if there was an accident nearby or if the sky is burning red with an oncoming nuclear explosion because come one it’s usually not only a good morning, but freakin GREAT!