I had planned to wake up earlier this morning to work out, but Evelyn was up till midnight being a very grouchy little Princess so I decided to change my alarm from 5 a.m. back to 6 a.m. so I could sleep instead. I'm not sure why, despite my general exhaustion, I woke at 4 a.m. I tossed from my left side, to my right side. From belly to back. I curled into a ball. I stretched out long. I couldn't get comfortable. I couldn't get calm. Blood coursed through my veins with intense determination. Something was not going to allow me to go back to sleep.
I sat up in bed, peering through the darkness. Silence echoed through the house, unyielding and unforgiving. Sometimes silence daunts me. It taunts me with is openness.
I stood up, slowly dressed in long pants, sports bra and a tank top. I sat in the living room as I tied my shoes, first the left and then the right. I peered at the clock on the front of my cable box. 5:39 a.m. I knew the sun wouldn't be up for at least another hour.
The air was misty, and almost smelt of mold with the dampness of the heat that lingered from days of sun pelting the town without resistance. I didn't take off in a sprint. I knew my mother was right, as I cringed at her laughter when I told her I wanted to start running again. "Good luck with that." She mocked.
And I can understand her concern. Once upon a time my legs were strong and firm, allowing my feet to carry me miles at a time. I use to be a runner. I loved it, craved it's bare simplicity. Until my lung collapsed in High School, and three doctors all informed me I would never have the lung-air capacity I once had. "You will never be able to take in a full, deep breath again like you use too." I spent years walking after that... but it just never had the same effect.
I started slow, letting my short legs carry me in a quick paced walk as I began to near the end of my road. I knew the distance, from my driveway to the street sign- .2 miles. From the street sign to the very end of the road-.25. From the very end of the road to my driveway-.05 miles. The goal was to run the length of my street twice, totaling one mile. It might not seem like much, but when you are as out of practice as I am you have to start somewhere.
As I felt my pulse quickening, I decided to break into a brisk jog. I had brought along my phone so I could listen to music but decided to let the creepy sounds of the night that lingered around me fuel my need for flight. I figured being freaked out would be better encouragement to get home quickly than some fast tempo-ed hip hop. With in minutes of breaking into the run my chest ached, followed by the creeping pain in my side. My legs began to tighten up as I turned at the top, and tried to keep a steady pace. Silence creep-ed around me, and I began to realize just how uncomfortable I was with the thought of being alone, in the dark, on this quiet little back street. I began to realize how uncomfortable I was with being alone period. I forced myself to push past my driveway, knowing that if I slowed down I might give up.
Once I reached the very end of the road I had to stop, just for a second. My lungs burned begging for the air that they could not be filled with. I coughed, hacked, and felt like I was going to throw up. 12 years without running and I was suddenly face to face with the struggle before me, what exactly it was going to take for me to get where I wanted to be. The brisk walk continued up the hill, pushing my aching legs that throbbed forward... forward... forward. Always in a steady motion. I need to push myself, force myself to move forward. I can't keep sitting in the same spot. I passed my drive way again, breaking into a brisk jog. My legs threatened to give way from underneath me, but I refused to give in. I remembered my breathing- in through the nose, out though the mouth trying to manipulate my lungs. Just one deep breath, that's all I needed was one deep breath.
I reached the top of the road and felt the wind at my back. a slight hint of lightness began to spread across the back of the sky. Not sunrise, not yet. Just the hint, the promise that it would be light soon. Every inch of my body ached from the lack of oxygen, my side throbbed and my heart thudded like my feet against the pavement. I tried to sprint towards the house, trying to push past it faster than before.
As I came to the end of my run, I began to walk the length of the road. I could feel my heart beginning to steady, my pulse no longer raced as it slowly eased to the rhythm of my heart. I had passed my drive way, so I turned around and headed for home. I ached, and I hurt, and my heart wouldn't quite beat on it's normal rhythm but it felt strangely good to run.
Who knew something that would hurt so much would be the best thing in the world for me. Sounds kind of familiar doesn't it.
I don't know if it's something I can keep doing. I hated leaving Evelyn asleep in the house, even with the baby monitor on and me just walking a short distance away. Maybe I need to join a gym. It just felt too good to stop.
And despite only 4 hours of sleep, I sit at work right now awake, alert and calm. I feel calm, and I haven't felt calm in months.
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