I have had a week. I. Have. Had. A. Freaking. Week. Is that clear enough?
End of my rope, hanging by a thread, on the brink…name your cliché, and I was there yesterday morning.
Everything with me actually is fine. But so, so many people that are around me are hurting – physically, emotionally, mentally. Sometimes it just feels like too much. I love so many people who are going through hard times right now. It hurts. It seems the whole world is hurting (the whole world is really f*cked up, too, but that is another post altogether).
I hesitate to pick up the phone in case it is more bad news.
I am terrified to click on a newslink for fear that I will view something so horrific that it is burned into my retina for the rest of my days.
I cannot stand the days leading up to September 11. I was in NYC that day. That beautiful blue-skied day in my beloved city that erupted into terror and black smoke. I was safe, thank God, but forever changed. I was 7 months pregnant, stuck in a city that was both locked down and under attack with no way to get home. I get anxious every year during this week- reliving the fear, remembering the stories and mourning those who were not safe. I was so, so lucky. And yet; changed. Forever. As we all were.
My text to Colby yesterday morning summed up my mental state: “The World Has Got To Get Its Shit Together. Period.”
(I also followed up with a warning that I was on an epic rant in case she planned on calling. Friends don’t let friends call crazy people without a warning).
By the time I got the kids on the bus – that would be 8:02 AM – I felt like I was going to jump out of my skin. Literally.
So I did what I have been doing since I was 16 years old. I laced up, and headed out.
No heartrate monitor, because I wanted to run hard and didn’t want the criticism.
No Garmin, because I really didn’t give a crap how far or how fast I ran.
This wasn’t a training run.
This was a survival run.
I ran up to our middle school track and ran as hard as I could for as long as I could. I wanted a track because I wanted to be able to run without having to think about traffic, pedestrians or cyclists – just look ahead and run. I ran like a feral animal. I ran until I felt like I might puke, then noticed that the middle school gym classes were coming out for sports. My son goes to the middle school and I’m pretty sure that having your mom puke in front of the whole 7th grade will kill your rap for well, probably, forever. So I stopped, got a hold of myself, caught my breath and ran home. All so he can have his choice of prom dates someday. I hadn’t completely lost it, after all.
I arrived home a new person. A person who was ready and equipped to deal with the realities of life. Whatever crappy things it might bring.
Since the day I started running for the sake of running, it has empowered me. I can start a run with the weight of the world on my shoulders, but by the end, I know I can handle whatever is thrown my way. Yesterday was no different. I’m mostly all good now.
Running. It’s powerful. It’s inspiring. It boosts me in a way that nothing else can.
And it’s a hell of a lot cheaper than therapy.
Anyone else run for therapy? Having a crappy week? How do you deal with the insanity that is life?