Running In Place

This week. This week has been hard. This thing has been the hardest thing I’ve yet done in my life. Friday I found myself in the doc’s office with a blood pressure of 170/102, which is a little higher than is generally appreciated (though far from life threatening in any case). He started me on a BP med, though the thought is that this is more of a situational problem - stress, anxiety, some poor self-care over the past few (or more) months - so the meds will hopefully address the immediacy of it but not necessarily be a lifelong thing. Though, I guess if that were the case, so be it. But the bigger issue, with my body and with my psyche, is - what’s next?? I’ve been in utter stasis for a long while now, living some other life in my mind - and now that the other life actually could blossom, I am still static - in truth, mourning. I kind of thought that, as soon as I moved out, I would just happily and magically be this other person, living this other - amazingly free and joyful - life. What choice did I have?? Condescending Co-Worker pointed out, as I sniffled at my desk, that I have been living in Pretend Land. And I wanted to hate her for it, but she was right. And I know it’s only been a week, and god knows it’s all really complicated, and the real answer is that I’m not going to be all-of-a-sudden New & Improved, but clearly - I have to take a step.

As this is an alleged running blog. Let me start here. I don’t have to tell you that I haven’t done anything more than sporadic running in some time. In August, when all the shit really came down, I had some really good runs - passionate, appreciative, therapeutic. Why I don’t always tap into that, when I know it’s right there, is a mystery to me. But I focused myself elsewhere - in avoidance, in routine, in the notion that I had to be present for others and not so much my self. But, you see, in a lot of ways, my role is changing entirely. In a perfect world, you just make the shift - there, all set. In the real world, it’s hard to die to your own (and other people’s) image of you. But maybe the dieing is part of the becoming.

And so, I have a plan.