6:47am. A beautiful morning. Nothing is chirping, but it feels like it should be. A small chill is already being defeated by the rising sun. I walk out past my gate. I bend forward to stretch the slow ache from yesterday’s workout to no effect. I try to stretch my quads. Same thing. I put on my bluetooth headphones, activate my Nike running app, and start jogging to the beat of “Eye of the Tiger” from Rocky 4 (my all time favorite Rocky movie). I see my shadow plodding in front of me.
At first, just the fog of sleeping inherits my soul, but slowly the rhythm of my free run shoes on the very hard concrete begin to seep through. I am doing it! I am jogging (albeit quite slowly), and then it hits me how much I hate running. The entire 3 miles as I jogged/trotted/walked, I hated it. I hated it as if I was being made to eat Kerele which I hate with as much passion as I hate diet coke. Yet, I keep going. It reminds of my dreams and the things I want to achieve.
Some days it seems so utterly futile to run, pray, walk the dog, practice spanish, journal and do some brain games. All before I head to work where I figure out how to get us not get sued by the many thousands of reasons small companies get sued in California. I giggle each time I go to an HR seminar because invariably, it will be brought up the New York and California are the most litigious states in the country in terms of wage and hour issues. So I go to my studios, grateful that I still have studios to go to, but it’s never far from me. Is this my dream? Is all that I am trying to do part of a larger plan for me to become what I was born to be? Over and over. I see my shadow in front of me. I keep running, keep moving forward, wondering if I am running away from my dreams…
7:23am. Back home. Time to walk the dog. Then pray. then write. No Spanish for me today. Gotta get to work!
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