Tuesday, December 23, 2014

What makes a runner...

It's funny, this addiction we have to definitions. How do you define what it is to be a runner? How many times have you justified saying 'I'm not a real runner' with some qualifier? 

Oh I don't run fast. I don't run often. I don't run long in poor weather. I don't run before coffee or after work. 

As if the noun declares a particular ambience, or quiet adherence to its Webster tales. As if you are bound to its grip hold on your heart like a vow you took on some track in high school, down on one knee.... 

Repeat after me:

I am a runner.

Let it be enough to know that. Believe in yourself enough to let go of the rest. Expectations of some strict definition is a terrifying way to live. Lace your shoes. Brave your fears. Take to the trail, the road, the mill. Breathe in the cause and effect of making the decision to be here now. Perhaps this is mindfulness?

Running contains no guilt. It doesn't scold or patronize. Perhaps it isn't always patient. Granted it has lessons to teach. However, in the passing of your feet over the earth, through the seasons, in the chaos, or in the quiet, it merely creates an undercurrent to life.

I am a runner. 

Today I am a runner because I know my heart has far too many cracks to chase itself out from the rocks I'm surrounded by. Today I am a runner because the coffee was hot enough to create a want to wrap my hands around the mug as if in some sweet lingering embrace. Today I am a runner because the sun sleeps and I am up kissing the moon good night. Today I am a runner because I am hopeful it will inspire sleep tonight. 

Today I am a runner because there are so many parts of me that don't believe it's true. Because this is how we redefine ourselves, how we create change in our lives, how we flush out the drifting and steer for a while. Today I am a runner. Not because it's a good day to run, not because I'm fast, or feeling the need for a run. 

Today I am a runner simply because, well I choose to be. 

Today, what will you choose?

Much love,