Playing Catch Up

My body and I have been in a little fight of late.  Nothing huge mind you, we're still on speaking terms.  I'm just a little colder to the ol' bod than I usually am. I've found I'm quicker to anger and not as patient with it as I'd like to be. It may be because its creeping up on spring (even though it doesn't feel like it in Brooklyn today - brr you guys, BRRRR!), and my body is still holding fast to my sweater bod (Rude! Doesn't it know that its almost sundress time?!)  Or, it could be because I've been having some additional health challenges of late that have made me feel like my body has turned on me. Like we're just not on the same page.  Which feels sad, and kind of confusing.

When I woke up this morning to go work out, I was still feeling my feelings about my body and I made a decision that something needed to change.  I needed to do something to feel like my body was my own, that it was strong and capable and that I loved the shit out of it.  I walked to the gym in the half drizzle and thought about what would make me feel like we accomplished something meaningful - like we were a team again.

By the time I scanned my card at the gym I knew what had to happen, my body and I were going to race. When I ran track in high school I felt the most comfortable in my own skin when I was racing.  My muscles were working, my mind was clear and for that period of time I felt whole.

I decided that I would try to run 3 miles as fast as I possibly could.  I was racing against the dark feeling of distrust I had of my body, and I knew that today of all days, I needed a win.  I got on the elliptical machine (my fave!) put on the most inspirational, badass music I could find - and made a promise to myself that I was going to push beyond what my mind and body thought I was capable of to get to that 3 mile mark.  And then, I let go.

I stopped worrying about what the medical test results were, I didn't think about how I looked in my yoga pants, all that I thought about was how fast I could get those little numbers to tick up to 3.00.  At around 1.3 miles I started to smile to myself, giddy at the way every part of  me was working together to be successful, delighted by how fast I was making my legs move.

When I got to the 3 mile mark I got the feeling I was hoping for: clarity, joy, oneness. I hopped off the elliptical with wobbly legs, and a renewed love for my imperfect body.  I ellipticalled that 3 miles in 20 minutes.  The fastest I've gone in a long time. Fast enough to outrun my anger, and just fast enough to catch up with myself.

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