Through my divorce, is where I found running. As a way to slowly find my way back to myself and redistribute the pain from my heart down through my legs and out of my mind.
Deciding to be a runner was not something I planned on. But it saved me.
Through high school I hated every minute of the mandatory activity.
Then one May grey day in San Diego, I decided to take it up again with my husband. I ran down the block and back.
I still hated it.
It wasn’t until our divorce years later that inspiration hit me and I just had to run. I needed to feel something other than pain, sadness and confusion. And this is where the journey begins.
Glendale, CA August 2015.
The sky is black. The arching trees cover the path where you cannot see the stars. I slowly run up a hill, which feels like a 90 degree angle, then come back down as fast as I can. My despair finally slipping away as I drift through the night.
The two mile loop around my Uncle’s house, where I am staying, becomes my nightly romanticization. The stars make a path, the moon shows me the way. Wishing on them, so I can always feel this way, even when still.
It won’t happen for a very long time...
Not only have I fallen backwards in time to my college job at the movie theater, I have no idea how to begin living the life I left for.
The only thing that makes sense right now is running. In the dark, alone, pushing away anything that resembles feeling.
You’d think that taking up running would turn me into a healthy person, mind and body. But I did the exact opposite. Staying up till all hours of the night, eating the bare minimum or a happy meal from McDonald’s. During this era running was helping me block out the pain, not heal it.
And so, Colorado awaits ❄️❄️❄️...
stay tuned for part 2.
xx Meg ✌🏼💖☕️
👉 Start from the beginning: 100 Cups of Coffee
0 comments:
Post a Comment