This format is my very uncomfortable confession booth. You sit on the other side of the curtain without the burden of seeing my shame. The lights are as dim as my spirit. My voice wobbles and cracks as I begin.
For the handful of seasons, I have not lived my best life. Seems my journey to the moon of my dreams slung me unceremoniously onto the dark side of the lunar rock. Communication was severed and temperatures plummeted as my world got a bit darker than I had imagined possible. I neglected my health and ate all of the food sending my weight upwards to new heights as my emotions traveled opposite. I quit running, writing and dreaming. My zest for life scurried away like a roach when the room is illuminated.
I would love to point at one tragic event as the cause, especially if the finger of blame was directed away from myself. But I am solely charged with my happiness. The problem with taking responsibility for a disaster, is you automatically are elected to find a solution.
I didn’t blame, diagnose, or question these circumstances. But I did look for a solution. I found it in the place where I left it, in the middle of every distance I had drug my aching body through. It’s simply profound and maybe it applies to you as well. It altered my trajectory then and now. The gloom is fading as I turn my ship back towards home.
With a marathon completion many miles behind, I accepted a new challenge a few years back: The Ultra. To qualify the distance must be just a step farther than 26.2 miles, but mine was 50. The setting was the muggy shores of the Arkansas river during the 4th of July weekend. The course was filled with hills and challenges. It started at midnight and finished under the noon day sun.
Early in the race, I fell in with some runners early and asked these weirdos who pay for blisters for advice. Their admonishment is what I pass to you today. “Keep Moving.” I expected a complicated formula for run/walk ratio or a preferred pace, but they made it clear that the key was perpetual motion. If you feel great, keep moving. If you want to cry, keep moving. If a toenail decides to leave you, keep moving. If the sun is too hot, keep moving. If you want to quit, keep moving. If it rains, keep moving. If you are the dead last finisher (I was), the advice is the same: Keep Moving!
I’ve noticed a phenomenon at every race I have ever attended. The prizes are only awarded at the finish. Sure, you may get a participation shirt for your entry fee, but you can’t even buy a finisher shirt. They are earned by those who keep moving.
Should you be in a dark place today and you find your joy eclipsed by one of the many orbiting objects of life, keep moving. Get out of bed, lace up your shoes, and get back on the trail. And do it again tomorrow. And the next day. This too will pass, and when it does, maybe we can run a mile (literally or figuratively) together. Until then, Keep moving!
