Rar.

Well, I did it. And by that I mean, I over did it.

It was 70 degrees on Tuesday and I was all, Oh, I should go for a run! I am going for a run! Why don’t I run home instead of driving home? Then I get the commute out of the way and I get to run! I was all Yippee! And I’m SO smart! And look at me running home because I am an environmentalist and a runner and so very smug.

So very, very smug.

I managed to cripple myself on that seven mile run. Old running shoes. Slightly longer distance than usual. Angry running gods. Probably all of these things. I do not know. The forces converged upon me and by the end of the run, and certainly by the next morning, I had one solid case of Achilles Tendonitis.

Damn it. Double damn it.

It means at least a week of no running. Which means at least a week of bad attitude and muddy headedness. And because I can’t think clearly and am in a general funk, I will cop out of my blog post and share yet another poem from last year’s class. It is about running, because if I can’t do it I might as poeticize about it. I think I made that word up, but I am going with it, because if it is not a word, it damn well ought to be one. Challenge me on this. I dare you. I will eat your face. Rar.

The poetry assignment was to take a line from another student’s poem from a different assignment and use it as a start to our poem. This is what I wrote.

The Magic of the Mist
The magic of the mist
The glory of the morning
Out for a run
I feel the cold air on my face
Contrast with the warm breath I exhale
I run because I need to think
To unscramble my brain
I run to feel free
To feel awake and alive
To embrace the world
But on my own terms
I run to escape into
The magic of the mist.

Running is magical for me. It is transformative. It makes me a better, calmer, happier person. It is wild and primal and meditative all at once and when I am all done, I can think clearly and I feel… what? Happy? Balanced? Calm? Yes. All of those things.

So I look longingly at my running shoes today, and chastise myself. For both overdoing it when I knew I should have stopped that day at mile three or four. But also, for not getting out on all the other days that I could have. For not seizing every opportunity I had to get out the door and feel the calming breeze push past my cheeks as I chugged along. For thinking that I could run another time, instead of lacing up my shoes and getting out right then. Who knows when you’ll get injured or even hit by a bus?

Run- and live- at every opportunity.

Now I am going to drown in my self pity and a piece of chocolate cake the size of my head.