We had a blog under this title four years ago this summer. It wasn't that successful and to be honest I am not sure how successful this will be. I don't know if I will like it more or less than I did four years ago but am feeling strangly drawn to this place again and surprisingly enough our blog name hadn't been claimed - so here we go again...
There is a certain energy and a certain inertia with starting things, for me anyways. I have experienced this recently as I have started to resume running after the arrival little Sophie. There is the excitement of getting back into shape: fitting into old clothes again, feeling fit and energetic like you can up and run 10 k on a whim or just keep up with your kids. Undoubtedly in this phase you buy a running magazine and inspire yourself with stories of other runners who have overcome much greater obstacles than childbirth, perhaps you stop in at lululemon and treat yourself to a new running shirt, download some peppy new music for your runs or buy a new pair of shoes to take you the distance. Then you hit the trail your head full of positive thoughts, your eyes gorge on the beauty of the river valley in full bloom, your ears pulse with great sounds, your legs feel weightless, your feet float along the path. Two minutes pass. And then it hits you - the wall. So soon you ask yourself? It can't be. You are stronger than this. That isn't your heart beating it fits of rage or the feeling of lactic acid pooling in your legs - is it? Your head is swirling, reeling even. Discouragement begins to knock at your door - you try and keep it at bay but it is unrelenting. You are weak. You are out of shape even. And at that moment you realize it is just going to be plain hard work. Weeks filled with days of runs where you are just a shadow of your former self (or the self you remember anyways). Your feet will plod along and your legs will burn, you will feel heavy, your knees will hurt. On stretches of open road where you are visible to other runners, bikers and walkers you will pick up your pace only to turn the corner and collapse into a heaving, wheezing mess behind some well placed bushes. The inertia. But, you will think back on other times when you have been in this same place and you will forgive yourself a little, choose to enjoy the scenery, the time to yourself, the fresh air and the discipline of putting one foot in front of the other.
So here we go... one foot in front of the other. I think I might even enjoy this.
