It would have been easier to stay inside. Chain my legs to the desk and motor on.
It would have been normal or even acceptable to complain about the falling temperatures and how the 1-2 inches of snow were wreaking havoc with my plan to run outside. I run year-round, all-weather, but fifteen degrees makes even an
obsessed dedicated runner pause to scrap for sanity.
I was already whining to myself about having to run on the treadmill, so when I looked down at my snow boots sitting in the closet, Mother Nature didn’t have to twist my arm too hard.
The mind started to work its magic.
Why not run outside?
These boots would work. They are cushy and comfortable and sooooo warm.
Why not run on my favorite trail?
Cleve could come, too! He is so ready for some outdoor time.
I pulled on my snow boots, slapped on an ugly hat, and Dane’s camo hunting coat and neck cover.
Two minutes in, my breathing found it’s rhythm as my legs eased into a stride that was easy, unlabored, and liberating. Who was this runner and what did she do with my signature limp and sluggish trek?
This feels like it could be my best run EVER!
John Mayer filled my ears with his rendition of Free Fallin’ just as the cedars lining the trail started to shed their lacy skirts of snow from that morning’s accumulation. So many times, I stopped and tried to video the snow blowing from the boughs, but Mother Nature was too quick and the breeze paused each time I pulled up the camera to capture it. Like she was messing with me, whispering, “You can’t catch me, silly girl!”
Kisma once wrote, “I wish my eyes could take pictures,” and in that moment, I could feel her wish. A camera couldn’t have caught my serenity and peace of being on that lonesome trail with one of my best buddies.
The words started to flow through my head, and suddenly I couldn’t finish fast enough so that I could get words on paper.
But, wait a minute. Why rush the magic? Did I need to write it down to prove that it had happened? Can’t I just stay in this space and enjoy the moment? Just stay here, now?
I opted to stay in the moment. I relished the perspiration trickling down my back (turns out three layers was one too many). I pulled down the neck warmer so that I could drink in the air and feel the circulation in my nostrils.
You want to change your perspective? Change your scenery.
Prior to the run, I had been slaving at my desk, feeling a bit whiny and woe is me. By simply changing my scenery, and my perspective – I changed my mood.
My friend, Kristen wrote about her Word for the Year (Perspective) earlier this week and I’ve been thinking about it ever since. She and I exchanged some giggles on Instagram how we accidentally interchanged the words perspective and perception. As I ran with heart-filled gratitude, I settled on the notion that personal perceptions indeed color our perspective.
I started this week perhaps like many of us did – with a bit of a holiday hangover and a crawl to get back into some sort of schedule that may or not include resolutions that we will (or won’t) break in a few weeks. My perception of the day was that it was too cold to run and that I had too much to do. Then perspective crept in with each snowy step and changed my perception…
I feel like I can be productive now.
Doesn’t that make me a better employee?
Wasn’t it fun to play in the snow? Didn’t this feel like an adventure?
Can you see how happy your pooch is? Won’t he sleep better tonight?
Aren’t you so blessed to have legs to carry you on another run?
As I finished my run, a quiet and beautiful song danced into my ear buds. One might hear sadness, but with new perspective, I listened with changed ears.
I came undone on the 101 when the night got cold
You know, I’d never make this trip alone
Your bright eyes came to mind With every star on 66
Well maybe there’s no outrunning this
Cause, there’s a highway that I ain’t found,
Where your memory won’t break me down.
Somewhere east of the Mississippi,
South of the Mason Dixon,
And just outside of nothing left to lose.
And miles away from missing you.
My husband and I have been talking A LOT about the fact that in less than two years we are going to be empty-nesters. Tanna and Dane each graduate one day apart and will fly the coop at the same time. I’ll admit it, I’m already thinking ahead and missing them. Each time I had listened to this song in the past, my heart ached and moaned and my brain joined the pity party.
Why not enjoy the now? Why not feel grateful that they belong to me for this short time? Why not free fall for a moment and let their scents fill my nostrils and muddy shoe prints remind me to stay with them for as long as they are here?
By the time I returned home, my monkey mind was miles away from the place it had started. Will I always have the discipline to change my perspective/change my mood? Probably not. But we can only do this one day at time, one step at a time. Capture what we can and be grateful for having done so.
Hey! Wanna join me in something fun? Do you have Instagram? Do you love nature trails? If so, please share them with me! Simply tag your photo with the hashtag #52weeks52trails. I plan to post my trail discoveries all year, and want to see yours, too.