Slow and Steamy

We kiss the kids good-bye and open the door to leave for our 10K, the weather greeting us as forecasted.

Steamy.

I don’t need to worry about being at the front of the pack when the race starts; when I call it a race, I mean it’s me against my own goals, my own previous times, my own expectations.

Earbuds tucked into my ears, stopwatch on my wrist, I begin my methodical trot. 

Slightly overcast, the sunless sky is oppressive, a veil holding the heat over my head, sweat seeping into my hot pink headband. 

I smile at a dad jogging alongside his young daughters, the younger one grasping his hand and keeping pace with her older sister.  Later, I will spot him again, their pace slowing as he carries her piggyback along the course.

My heart swells with the sweetness of the act, enforcing the childhood belief in a daddy as superman, but my head says a quick thanks that I am only carrying my own weight today.

I don’t see a mile marker until the second mile, where I check my pace with a shrug and a sigh; I’m moving a little slower than planned.

And the sun is coming out.

A little voice flickers into my consciousness, reminding me that losing a few pounds would make a difference in my running.  Feet pounding, I leave that voice behind.

Gulping water at the hydration station, I move on, sunscreen and sweat mingling into my eyes with a sting.  I’m making my way back to the riverfront, letting the ever so slight breeze graze over the shimmer of heat covering my body.

A hill looms.

I concentrate on placing one foot in front of the other.  Gwen Stefani and her enviable abdomen coax me forward.  My heart thuds.  My lungs burn. 

Glancing down, I register that my pace is still lagging behind the number on the chalkboard in my mind.

I barely notice the hill falling behind me, conquered.  I take as deep a breath as my battered lungs will allow and purposefully slow down.

I can still finish in under an hour.  I shift my thinking, mid-race, and my body suddenly feels lighter.  My legs swing to the beat, relaxed instead of fighting the heat.

A smile pushes aside the grimace of effort.

Oversized stone tigers welcome us to the ballpark, and rhythmically run around the block, letting the descent of the tunnel onto the baseball field move my legs for me.  A vast field of green welcomes me, though we are carefully shuttled onto the dirt path of the first base line.

Later, I will let myself wonder if I should have pushed myself.

Later, I will let myself set goals for my next run.

But for now, I am tiredly content.  Peeling off sweaty layers of clothes, gulping water, cheering on the other finishers, I am comfortable in my sweaty skin.

while we ran, they played at the Nature Center with Grandma & Grandpa

speaking of Grandma...

Happy Birthday Mom!

xoxo

What have you done lately that brought you joy?  Made you smile?  Allowed you to feel that you ARE absolutely and positively enough?

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