Running to be a better ME

I am a runner.

Tonight I ran my first run of the New Year. It was awful. My lungs burned. My legs ached and a coyote ran with me for what seemed like forever. I hate the first run after a much too long break. It is as if your body has forgotten the previous 7 months that you spent fine tuning every muscle in order to earn the label of runner.

Oh well. Tonight was the best run of my life. Truly. It was.

As I was trying my best to keep my feet and body moving at a reasonable pace I thought back to an essay I wrote while in college. I cannot recall the specifics behind why the essay was written but I do remember the first line.

I am a runner.

The essay was not about the runners high some achieve once their feet hit the pavement, instead it was about the literal definition of running. To flee or escape; to leave a place with the intention of never returning.

I have an awful pattern of fleeing situations, relationships or commitments that take me outside my comfort box. If I am stressed, I escape. If I am overwhelmed, I escape. If I am uncomfortable, I flee. And if something changes in my life I run. Not exactly a trait that I want to bestow upon my three young children.

Writing the essay gave me pause but the process of writing and sharing my words with my professor was not earth shattering and it certainly did not change the course of my life.

But tonight as I ran I was trying to figure out how it could possibly be 2009 and why I am in the exact same place that I always am. And it hit me like a ton of bricks. I am a runner. Of course. Given the opportunity to escape, I run.

This year I will continue to run. But this year I will no longer run from life. This year I will run toward a better life. This year I will run to be a better mom. a better wife. a better daughter. a better granddaughter. a better sister. a better aunt, a better niece. a better friend. a better neighbor.

This year I will run to be a better me.