Running 6.5 miles of pretty intense hills at night with a group does a couple of things. Pushes you harder. Makes you feel euphoric. Gives you a sense of accomplishment. Is a reminder that you, in fact, are a badass. Gives you a lazy, contented feeling of tired. I NEEDED the run last night. Usually, I run to stay in shape, to push myself, etc… Last night, instead of all my usual reasons, I ran because I needed to process the emotions I had felt all day. I needed to get out of my house and run away. I needed to refill the oil in my lamp, so to speak, so I could turn around and pour it out to others. Some days are just tough days. I’m blessed with a great job, supportive husband and amazing kids which makes anything tough that much easier. Running makes it all okay.
My tough day was actually about one of my kids. A situation that no matter how hard I try, no matter how much of an advocate I am, no matter how much I want to make things all better, I simply cannot. So I have to rage a little, shake my fist and move on without allowing my inner frustrations to spill out onto my friends and family – the very people I want to be my best for. So every once in a while, I dedicate my run to pushing through and moving on. To getting back to being me.
When I get home from a tough night run, my family is waiting for me. I’ve left dinner so I clean up when I arrive, eat something and then relax. I’m blessed that this is how my night ended.