The November sky was a winter sky – painted every shade of gray with the wind’s brushstrokes leaving interesting patterns. The huge white stones in the pasture looked like sheep resting in field, a scene from Ballykissangel. Three dogs pulled at their leashes, happily bouncing along the pasture trail. But I was missing so much of it because I kept glancing at my Garmin. My pace was too slow. I was frustrated as the dogs kept stopping to sniff…or to pee…or listen for rabbits…
The struggle to control the run was overwhelming…and was just a reflection of how I try to control every aspect of my life. This is what drowning might feel like. Fighting the current never helps. You have to let go and just float. I’ve never been a fan of floating – always afraid of that loss of control. But the old ways aren’t working any longer so I need to find a new way. I’m going float more and race less.
My knee is giving me problems again so my running is suffering. Instead of getting angry with my body, I’m allowing myself to run slowly or not run at all. I’m allowing myself to walk when I need to. And I’m leaving my Garmin watch at home. I’m not tracking pace or mileage. I’m just moving. I’m not posting miles on MapMyRun and I don’t know if I’ll ever enter another race.
Shifting away from all these measures, scales, watches and clocks, I have to a chance to float freely…no guides, no maps, no public input. Just me. I eat when I’m hungry. I run when I want to run. I smile when I feel like smiling…and cry when I feel like crying. Floating along in my simple river…
This is my river…my beautiful, mossy, messy river.
Angelina, this is your best yet. So proud of you!
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You write beautifully!! I enjoy floating. Going with the natural flow sounds so calming
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