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What does it mean? Finding Beauty in Tragedy.

I had my lovers stint with running for a few years until injury took me over.  Here is what I know in my heart of hearts about it.

It can inspire pure joy.

I could never run as a kid.  I grew too fast and was uncoordinated and awkward until my late 30’s.  Seriously.

But after a battle with pneumonia my Naturapath suggested I take it up to heal my lungs.  I resisted and resisted and resisted until this golden thread unwound on my doorstep and I followed it to Beth Baker.

If you need to learn something you want to learn it from someone who a) Loves it.  2) Laughs so fantastically obnoxiously from deep in their soul that even though you’re nervous and don’t want to…you laugh anyway.

The first night of my couch to 5K class with the infamous Beth Baker I ran a half mile.  It just happened.  I was talking with the guy next to me and then we were done and I had run a half mile without stopping.  I had never done that before.

Soon I ran a mile.  Without stopping.  Unheard of.  I was 38.  It was the first time in my life I had run a mile.

It would take six months, but one brisk early Spring morning with a group of ladies about to train for a half marathon I would run 3 miles.

I could see myself run walking 13, but I could never imagine that I could run 3 without stopping.

And I did.

And I acted cool…but got in my car and started crying.

I cried because I did something I didn’t know I could do.

I cried because I surprised myself because I didn’t even know how much determination and strength I had.

And I kept going.

The day I made it five miles, holy shit you should have seen the smile on my face.

And then six!  Without stopping!  You have got to be kidding me.

But then my feet started not to be happy.  And many different kinds of shoes and insoles later…my eight mile run would be my last long run.

Something in my foot just…broke.  But I finished the run…and nursed my foot back to health for almost a year.

And life has happened and running now was this thing I did.  And loved.  And found such confidence and peace in.

It was horrible at times, but I always ended the run with this flood of joy that if I could have bottled, would have made me a gazillion dollars.

And then I innocently log onto facebook and am assaluted with this tragedy.  And it keeps happening.  This senseless violence that makes no sense.

And all my running memories flood back in…strongly and vividly.  I even remember the sweet man who was always running the opposite way around the lake every morning and always had a wave and a huge smile for me.

I have to know that there is a reason somewhere…that something larger then me understands how this plot unfolds…and that my job is to try to see the bigger the picture–which is hard to do with these images in my head.

My patient who was running Boston today was already done and is safe, so at least for me that’s a positive.  But I guess what I’m left with is this.

If ever there was a sport that was a true meditation, it would be running.  If ever there was a sport that was pure, it was running.  It’s just you and your mind and your muscles and your bones and your determination.  That’s it.

And if ever there was a sport that would be able to move on from this, it would be running, because it’s in the running that we get to let go and heal ourselves in body, mind and spirit.

And I don’t know if those who are there right now can access that beautiful freedom of release right now, but I know in the deepest parts of my soul they will know it when they take their first run after all this.

And for those who were injured or heaven forbid worse, I just don’t have words.  This blogger and healer just sends her love and well wishes and all the light she can muster to those who need it.  And I hope that’s enough.