Wednesday, November 10, 2010

A Runner's Sabbatical...

I love the word sabbatical. It is one of those words you just feel smart by saying it. Like eclectic or convolute. Maybe saying I am taking a "runner's sabbatical" rather than "I quit running because I loathe it" sounds more mature or well thought out... I am usually a January through April runner. I train for a yearly 10K in April and then I stop running until the following January when the weeks of eating every Christmas cookie, piece of fudge, turkey & ham feasts have finally guilted me into lacing up the sneakers.

However, I continued running this year. I ran until the beginning of November before I finally allowed myself to come to terms with the fact that I was DONE running.  My mom used to tell me as a kid, if you are growing impatient or strongly dislike something you are doing, set it down, walk away and come back to it later. I think this is a great life lesson. But what I struggle with is that fine line between discipline and letting go. When should you continue to push yourself and when should you say, I need a break? I have a friend who would answer that question, with a question... "What answer brings you more peace?" And neither answer does. I love how I feel after a good, long run. I do not like that running is just another thing I have on my never ending "to-do" list. I could go back and forth on pros and cons all day...

So I am taking a sabbatical from running. A short term break lasting anywhere from a few weeks to a year. This sounds less permanent and gives me permission to start up next week or not until January after my holiday bingeing.  Hmmm... what else I can take a sabbatical from? Housework? Cooking? Changing dirty diapers? The possibilities are endless...

This post brings me to today's photos. The first photo of my brand new running shoes I bought this past summer. Something about new shoes I love. The clean look, the feel, the "new shoe" smell... And what really makes me smile, new shoes for my kids. Maybe I love these pictures because I know as soon as they slip these shoes on they will never look this new again, or maybe the fact that in about 6 months their ever growing feet will be in different pair. Leaving the old ones to hand-me-down cousins and distant photographs to look at and say, "Hey, I remember those shoes."

Love & Light,


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