I went to the Food Bank on Thursday morning and picking up food donations with K. she told me, "Kristin, I can't believe you haven't run since the marathon. That's gotta be stressing you out." And I have to say, I was quite surprised. I still feel somewhat heroic for what I did, despite my roller coaster of self-pity, and it caught me off-guard to hear someone say that I should get off my butt and hit the roads again when I feel so deserving of a break. But maybe she's right, that its emotionally stressing me out, so I got off my butt.
For about four miles, but it still felt wonderful-- not my legs, of course-- but really wonderful, you know? I got to University bridge and- it was boiling hot- there were boats really simply everywhere below and the air sat heavy around me like a coat covering my bare arms, but I just sunk into it, and it felt like a bath full of epsom salts. I looked out at the loungers on the back of motor boats or the adventurous kayak-ers in their life jackets, drinking from sport-top water bottles, and I just felt like the luckiest. Maybe not the one having the most fun, or the best off in that weather, but the luckiest-- just to be a witness to life, to Seattle, even to myself. It felt good to be able to count on Running again, for it just to sit below my heart, locked in my machine-knees while my head marched through a litany of thoughts, piecing ideas together, processing motion, change and the desire to stay still and throw down roots.