Maybe I Am

Thanks to all who have shared stories and reasons for commenting on my blog anniversary giveaway post. I know we are all touched by cancer in some way, but it’s through sharing stories and learning more about one another that helps me realize we’re all linked in this way, too. While we hope not to have that link one day, it is also what gives us strength. The giveaway will be open until January 31st, so plenty more time to spend more of my money.

It’s funny, even at the thought of letting go of a lot of cash (cash that, at this time of year, really starts to become Get Me On An Island cash), I seem to have no fear these days. A month ago, you couldn’t have caught me not stewing over something, worrying about it, wondering what to do next.  But now, I seem to have an overwhelming feeling that it’s all going to be okay. Because, you know, it’s always going to be okay.  And haven’t we all been told, over and over, that we have to let go of things— these things we don’t understand, these things we cannot control—but we doubt it. I know I have. Right now, for some reason, I find letting go to be so easy.  It’s like a I knew the theory before, I studied it. I hoped for it. I prayed for it, but I couldn’t ever do it. Now I can. It’s like all the sudden, I know how.

Like anytime we get a renewed sense of calm or resolve or passion for something, I’m hesitant to wonder where it came from or how long it’ll last. Yet, I can’t help but enjoy it and let myself coast on the feeling that things feel right, and that I am the one that decides what that is.

Yesterday, some friends and I were going to meet for a 10K race.  About a half hour before start time, the race was canceled due to icy trail conditions. I was immediately disappointed, but also immediately knew that I’d be running a 10K somewhere, somehow.  This was not just about the race, this is about training. Someone in the group piped up and suggested “okay, breakfast time?!”  At which point, as if I wasn’t the one in my body, I watched and listened to myself say no.  No, absolutely not. We are running first. I am running. It was like my inner drill sargeant came out. In a few minutes there was a plan of where to go, how far to run, and which direction we’d be running (huge difference between North and South, you know).

So we went out, ran our 10K (I feel so worldly, talking in K’s), through the snow, and I felt better.  I was the slowest runner, and therefore alone a lot, so I had time to think.  “Be present” I told myself.  The sun was shining, the air was cool but not cold, I felt pretty good. I could not have asked for more. And then, it occurred to me, that I’m not afraid of the training ahead of me. I’m anticipating it, I’m looking forward to it, but it doesn’t scare me. Rather, I’m yelling at people to run anyway. Insisting on it, even. Hm, maybe I am serious about this after all?  Maybe I do know better now? Hard to say.

I do know this: just because the race is canceled, doesn’t mean you can’t run.