Westwood Farmers Market & Rocket Fizz - Little Wigs in the ...

  • Subscribe to our RSS feed.
  • Twitter
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • Facebook
  • Digg

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

On Running

Posted on 8:39 PM by paritory
 
I am not a runner. I am not even close to a runner. I actually can't stand running. I played basketball in high school and running was our punishment for missed free throws or bad attitudes...and I must admit that I felt adequately punished while running my sprints down the court. So why, my friends, did I set a running goal this year? That's a question I've been asking myself a lot lately. Especially early in the morning when my freezing body is out pounding pavement!
 
Last year around Everett's first birthday I started having serious anxiety. Not only was I processing the anniversary of a traumatic experience, but I started stressing out about what awful fate would befall us next. When I found out we were expecting another heart baby, I started feeling guilty that maybe my thoughts were the cause. Guilty. That word can describe my feelings lately. I know it's not healthy and frankly it's neither beneficial nor enjoyable, but guilty I am. And about many things. I feel guilty about questioning whether our family and children could handle another heart baby--as if the baby was taken from me in response to my lack of faith. I feel guilty about not having the same fight and energy I had when I learned about Talmage and Everett's issues. I hope that Heavenly Father is not dissapointed with how I acted in the wake of Everett's diagnosis and surgery, but sometimes I feel like He might be. In a very loving sort of way. As if this baby was my re-test, since I failed it during the first go-around. But then I lost this baby. And I feel really guilty. I feel like I'm driving around in the passenger seat of my own life sometimes.
 
So back to running. Lately I think I've realized why it is important to me, and it all boils down to control. Hate it or not, I can go out every morning, huffing and puffing (both from the disdain of running and my lung's desperation for air) and finish my desired course. I may not be fast and it may not look pretty, but I can finish it. I can choose to finish it. And I'm in the driver seat. 

Email ThisBlogThis!Share to XShare to Facebook
Posted in | No comments
Newer Post Older Post Home

0 comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

Popular Posts

Blog Archive

  • ►  2015 (6)
    • ►  January (6)
  • ►  2014 (103)
    • ►  December (10)
    • ►  November (7)
    • ►  October (8)
    • ►  September (8)
    • ►  August (10)
    • ►  July (7)
    • ►  June (12)
    • ►  May (9)
    • ►  April (7)
    • ►  March (7)
    • ►  February (5)
    • ►  January (13)
  • ▼  2013 (146)
    • ►  December (19)
    • ►  November (12)
    • ►  October (13)
    • ►  September (9)
    • ►  August (19)
    • ►  June (7)
    • ►  May (5)
    • ►  April (17)
    • ►  March (21)
    • ►  February (12)
    • ▼  January (12)
      • Ice Skating
      • Mommy's Baby
      • The Waiting Place
      • NYC
      • Three boys on a couch
      • Happy Surgiversary Evie Knight!
      • Breathing is the first step
      • On Running
      • The Bubble Lady
      • T the Sunbeam
      • We partied and now we're home. Part 2.
      • We partied and now we're home. Part 1.
  • ►  2012 (189)
    • ►  December (6)
    • ►  November (1)
    • ►  October (16)
    • ►  September (15)
    • ►  August (14)
    • ►  July (22)
    • ►  June (26)
    • ►  May (11)
    • ►  April (21)
    • ►  March (14)
    • ►  February (21)
    • ►  January (22)
  • ►  2011 (56)
    • ►  December (11)
    • ►  November (15)
    • ►  October (16)
    • ►  September (11)
    • ►  August (3)
Powered by Blogger.

About Me

paritory
View my complete profile