I was so happy to lace up my shoes and run out the door at 5:30 with Eddie. The poor dog had been wondering what happened to his morning runs. Why was his running person laying in bed day after day? What was wrong with the world?
The morning was perfect. Cold and leafless and bright. The long lost feel of feet hitting pavement was perfect, too. Slow feet, mind you, but still. I had Zen Mind Beginner's Mind playing softly in my ears as my legs eased back into the rhythm of right foot, left foot, over and over. Nothing special most days, but today it all felt so right.
A car passed on my own street and I knew I was coming from Bill's house. My neighbor, Bill, is slowly dying at home, and his family keeps a constant vigil at his bed. This is terrible for them. Bill is suffering. And he's the nicest man. He loves to garden, so this must be his favorite time of year. Renewal, rebirth, shoots popping up through the dirt.
It's weird to think that one person on the street is dying while another is out running with the dog. One family's life stops while just across the street another family's life goes on. It's heartbreaking, and it happens every day, everywhere. Bill's grandkids swim with Nell. Their other grandpa died at Christmastime.
It's too much. I saw Bill's daughter at the library getting books for her son yesterday. That's all I could say to her: It's too much.
But, as I said, life does flow onward. And so I run past Bill's house every morning and toss up a little prayer. To whom or to what I don't know, but it helps me feel like I'm doing something.
Running along the river at first light is my daily practice and this morning I needed it. The whole family has been sick. Everyone is a bit cranky, a bit off. And we have been cooped up in the house for five days as the bug makes its rounds. Running gave me the feeling of a new day. Something new is what was needed.
When I got home at 6:30 the Brian and the boys were buzzing about making a castle out of boxes. We read Henry and Mudge and the Long Weekend last evening (the family in the book spends a rainy weekend making a cardboard castle). Brian needed to leave for work. Poor guy wanted nothing more than to stay home and make the castle with Simon and Ben. But there was no way these boys would wait for him to get home. I told him I'd do my best (both of us knowing full well that box castles are much more Brian's thing than mine).
We spent the morning cutting and taping. We spent the afternoon painting (outside, please!). We love our castle. Even Brian was impressed!
Sometimes my very best runs come after a layoff from illness. I'm sure as soon as you don't feel so wobbly, you'll be running like the wind again!
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