I took refuge in the cold and rain today. seeking the peace and solitude. With each step I forced myself to remain present. I held steady in a pace unfamiliar to me. It created and steady state of mindfulness because I could not wander. I had to focus and work to hold myself back from my normal nobrain run. I hit my 6 mile turnaround point comfortable and at peace. I kept going. In the grey mist I continued in my zen state. I passed my 12 mile turnaround point. It was just so fucking perfect. I had not left the farm intending to go long today. I had put in a solid 6 yesterday. I needed it though. I ran to run. I ran to lose all the pain and the heartache. I ran to reconnect with me. The me I know. The one that runs and leaves the world behind. The habit honed from time spent and miles logged. It was the perfect respite. I left disconnected. I ran to find myself. It was only about my feet hitting the ground and my lungs propelling me forward. I could have continued but common sense put the breaks on. I paused at the 14 mile turnaround and longed to continue, never stopping. That wasn’t realistic, especially considering I didn’t have enough fuel or water to push on. I can only describe the feeling of turning around as regret. Sad I could not run until I could no longer stand up. that I couldn’t run till my mind lost itself in the blankness of the exercise. I wanted nothing more. I know I am skirting masochism in that realm. To reconnect with my mind and body through physical pain. Though that is what I did today. I exchanged psychic anguish for physical punishment. It is okay. I was alright. I struggled late in the run as the falling temps, driving rain and a stiff headwind punished me. It forced me to dig a little deeper. I had to search for the tenacity and stubbornness to force my tired body to keep moving. I talked to myself. I good solid -get the fuck over it and keep running right around mile 13. I could have quit. I sure wanted to. looking down at my racing flats and wishing my feet didn’t feel so damn sore I told myself to get over it. Instead of running slower or giving up I ran faster. I pushed myself to the edge of what I had left. I showed myself more of what I have when I think I’m done. I gave myself a respite from the suicidal thoughts. They left me for the vast majority of the 2 1/2 hours I ran the wet roads. when they stirred up I focused back on my pace and my breath. It was everything I desperately needed. I returned home quiet in mind and body. The quiet born of fatigue and of the after effects of such a long exercise in mindfulness. think I found myself again. least for now.


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