I teeter between thinking I am a writer...I can write decent...I'm excited about writing!...I suck at writing and I don't even want to entertain it. I have found that the most real, true, authentic writing has come when I didn't force or fight it or try to neatly package it. The times that I enjoy writing the most are when it is in the moment; visceral feelings that embody my present experience, the messy, all-over-the-place thoughts. The first time I wrote like this I was probably 8 years old laying on the green of a golf course after one of my training runs with my mom. And I remember it to this day:
As I lie on the grass
Holding hands with my mom
I watch the clouds pass
And I feel so very calm
There air is so cool
But inside I feel warm
Like a tropical green pool
In which my body takes form
As the trees surround me
My mom and I share
The togetherness of we
And the moons bright glare
This type of cathartic writing is a space that I am returning to, but also a new world to venture into and explore. It will require me to let go of my perfectionist tendencies, to give in to the organic, to feel my body, take in the space around me, and truly be mindful of each moment I let my running have me. I look forward to this challenge of believing in my creativity, of taking risks, of having confidence in my writing, of sharing and being vulnerable and of building a collection of all of the moments we often miss because of a preoccupation, and sometimes obsession, with where we have been and where we want to be.
It is the space between: the past and the present -- the before and after -- the what was and what will be. The the process, the little things, the pieces that make up the whole -- the appreciation of each small moment of the journey -- that make it all worth it.
Treadmill Musings
Aloe Blacc’s, I Count On Me
My sister said it reminds her of me
“I’ve been knocked around, pushed to the ground
people try to hold me down”
Feel the bass in my chest
Aligning with my heartbeat
Hail pelts on the window
$200 rickety treadmill it is
“..Through the fire, through the rain
I count on me
And that's the way it's going to be”
Through sweat drenched hair blocking my view
The red dots light up the dashboard
Little fires burning
Feet scrape the front
As if I’m trying to beat the treadmill but have nowhere to go
I’m too fast
It’s not fast enough
Two small knots in my glutes
A reminder of lost time, lost strengthening
An indicator of new habits, new progress, new beginnings
Green and orange pool noodles hang on the wall
The bass pounds on
But they hold my focus
Sweat beads hanging tight to the sides of my forehead
Following the shadows that look as if they were painted on the wall keeps me busy
Crap treadmill shakes under my weight
Belt spinning towards the side
Will it catch before my run is complete?
Rob me of my 45min of freedom
I feel the pull on my chests and shoulders
Upper body work did its job
Onto the balls of my feet
A welcomed pep in my step
Laser focused, a dot the size of sand
Throwback to BU racing last winter
Warmup beats of Dancing in the Moonlight pound in my ears
I notice the stretch of my stride
Lengthening
Turning over
I’m a wheel -- spinning round and round like clockwork
My theme song
So Am I
Different
Strong
Tall
Confident
Alone
...Misfit
You got this
Turned all the way up
Louder
So I can’t hear myself think
Despite sore legs pulling, tightening, fatigued
I feel like I’m floating, it's effortless
Until you step off and the muscles squeeze tight, yelling at you to take care of them
Cherish the days when it comes easy
I am a metronome -- seems like this can go on forever
But then
Beep...Beep...Beep
The clock ticks from 7.8 to 7 to 6 to 5 to 4
Til we are rolling to a snails pace
Already over? Finally done.
Mixed thoughts
Warming down
Walk it off
Headphones still in
In my own world
Despite the loneliness, heartbreak, discomfort, pain, loss
I choose to be in this world every time
Hands reach for earbuds
..Do I want to step back into this madness
