Running away

Running provides so much solace to my soul.  I read a quote this week, someone had tagged it to Facebook from Pinterest, I think.  It said, “On good days, I run.  On bad days, I run longer.”  I’m so thankful for the ability to “run away.”  To lace up my shoes  and head out the door with no plan other than healing.

Yesterday’s run was that for me.  I’ve come to the beach, my place of comfort, on a planned month long getaway with my man.  We’ll have to leave on a few work excursions, but for the most part, we intend to play.  Run and cycle and explore.  I came alone on Wednesday, as Gary had a few days of work at home.  It’s been a while since I was completely on my own and the beach has a way of drawing me in, pulling me toward peace and calm.  The last few months have been different.  I won’t say they’ve been difficult, because I’ve seen people who have difficult circumstances and don’t think I’ve faced anything extraordinary.  But, Gary’s accident, my Dad’s decline and death, my decision to work part-time in my profession, all happening during or around the holidays (already a stressful time for everyone) piled more on me than I realized.  I’m a “get it done” kind of gal.  I don’t really think about the situation while it’s happening, but afterward, when the dust settles, it hits me.

I awoke to the sound of the surf outside my window, and I opened my eyes to the beauty that is God’s world.  A smile curved my lips, and I knew it was time to run.  I got up, gulped coffee, got dressed and headed out.  We’re staying in beautiful Blue Mountain Beach, Florida, with its meandering bicycle/running path that parallels Highway 30A.  There are tons of trails in the area that I can’t wait to explore and get lost on, but this morning was just about healing.  Running as long as it felt good.  On mile two, a man trotted up beside me and we visited as runners do.  How long are you running today, what races do you have coming up, that sort of thing.  Turns out he’s training for Boston in April and was running 14 yesterday.  His pace felt good for a few minutes as we chatted, then I dropped back and told him to enjoy his run and wished him good luck in Boston.  In the way of runners, he knew that meant I wanted solitude, so he headed on his way.

I ran for another mile or so, then turned back to head home.  The sky was overcast, the weather was cool, but it was a healing run.  One that soothed a soul that I was unaware was burdened.  As I ran, I shed the worries that plagued me for so very long about my dad, I don’t have to worry about him any longer.  I shed the need to over “mother” my man as he heals.  He can get along very well without my interference, and much prefers it that way, I’m sure. Each mile my worries over family situations and work problems dropped farther and farther behind.  With every step, I felt renewed and strengthened.

I picked up a few things along the way, as well.  Creativity bloomed, ideas emerged, hope blossomed and swelled.  This run, this short time of running away to the beach, is more about running toward something than running away.  I’m not sure what it is yet, but it’s right there, just over the horizon.  I can’t wait to figure out what it is.

I’ll stop writing here.  It’s time to  head down to the beach to watch the sunset. Happy running away, my friends. May all your running away lead you back home where you belong.