First Long Run of the Season: Acceptance

Today marks my triumphant return to the Saturday long run. After almost 6 months of hardcore anti-running, the plantar fascia are healed, and this runner has stored up some phenomenal energy "reserves". This morning could not have come soon enough (whew!), as I am counting down the days until I wed. It is freeing to know that my wonderful fiance could not care less if my arms are flapping in the wind, or my hula hoop of a middle begins spinning into oblivion during our first dance, or if my once toned calves turn into mush during our vows and randomly fall down to create the world's largest cankles. Nope. He just doesn't see it. God bless that one.

So, as the last stale Easter peep stares up at me from my mid-morning coffee (and yes, 0735 is mid-morning around here), cheering me on with it's single chocolate eye, I find joy; I appreciate energy; I regulate negative thoughts regarding body image. My heart is filled with Thanksgiving once more, and these shoes are laced perfectly. Who knows, I may even get bored halfway through the run and decide to do a little hula-hooping.

Running for Joy

Spring is a great time for the reassessment of goals, be they running or otherwise.

For botanists, it also represents a collector's harvest. You finally get to see what you have been waiting for all year, and each discovery is it's own surprise and a minor treasure, especially in this coastal southwestern climate, where you never know what is going to emerge until you find it, trip over it, or uncover it.

Similarly, as a runner, spring has always been somewhat of a harvest because you are finally able to push it just a little bit more than you have all winter long. In San Diego, you get more hours of daylight, subtle, soft winds, and all of this is wrapped in a package of perfect 70 degree weather.

Lately, I have been inspired by the mother of a dear friend of mine who lives here in San Diego. Her mother was diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease a few years ago. The thing that I can't quite seem to shake about this woman is her amazing attitude and the stories that I get to hear from my friend, of how her mother's attitude allows her to harvest grace, patience, and an appreciation for movement. Wanting to learn more about this disease, I went to the website for the National Parkinson Foundation. On the website, I found what is perhaps one of the neatest statements for a foundation like this to make:

"People with good self-esteem and an optimistic attitude develop a healthy determination to cope with the illness and sustain the energy, activities, and relationships that give life meaning and joy."

As I re-read this statement and stare down at the marshmallow peep floating in my coffee, I am reminded of the one thing that never seems to make it on the goal list: Joy. One of the greatest healers. One of the strongest crops. One of most contagious forms of inspiration. It has never been my focus. Never quite made it onto the spreadsheet.

Last year's marathon training yielded patience and perseverance. This spring, I would like add joy to the training regime.