Things are moving.

This  morning I got a late start (due to a truly lovely night full of laughter and sweet romance) and I didn't get out of bed until after ten.  My plan had been to go to the river again and run the Ft. Roots hill, but since I didn't really feel like driving, I decided to just run Sherwood.  There are hills here, right?


Oh God there are hills.  I ran down Brockington and up the first big hill on 107.  I was feeling a bit over confident at that point, 4.5 miles into a 14 mile run.  I had just come up a hill that was almost half a mile, and I was all, "I'm just going to run 2 and a half more miles that way and then turn around and come back."  J had met me at that point so I could top up my water bottles.


Only 2 and a half more miles involved a left hand turn onto Kiehl.  Hills, hills, the hills have feet to kick me in the butt.  That was a long 2 and a half  miles.  I was tired (and had a bit of a bad head.)  But I finally made it to 7 miles and turned around.


Mostly on this run I had been thinking about hills (!!!) and how much further.  I finally got into a good rhythm after about 8 or so miles.  I ran up one of the last hills and, at the top, the sun burst over the trees and washed me thoroughly in light.  I felt elated and bathed in gladness, and I thought of this poem that Savanna shared with me a few months ago.  Here is a bit of it:


Extending sunflower
roots synchronized with warm soil
petals frayed and aching
still bursting to the wind
your colour melts into my solemn chest
And I find that beauty is not whole
(your part) Trembling wind strand on a sunlit blade
I love you most of all
The morning paints your body
whispers "run"
and reminds us both that things are moving


And I spent much of the rest of the run thinking about all of the ways in which life is motion.  Life is never still.  Hearts beat, blood rushes, and we breathe in and out.  Life is never stagnant, but sometimes, emotionally, philosophically, or merely in practice, we become so.  There are so many ways to move and be alive, and I thought of them a word at a time: Run. Parent. Teach. Smile.  Laugh. Sow. Sew! Knit. Create. Cook. Write. Paint. Play. Hug. Work. 
So many things we can do, and no matter how we become frayed and aching, no matter how our beauty may seem fragmented, it exists.  It may be fragile or tentative, but it just needs tending.


About 2 miles from the house I felt euphoric. The sun was up high and I pulled out my water bottle for a drink. I sang a little and lifted my bottle up in a toast to the sun. Run. Things are moving.