Ebb.

As with any phase of life, there is always give and take, peaks and valleys, ebb and flow; it's nature in it's purest and it's just the way that the universe tends to work, I've learned.  The first several weeks of 2012 were utterly trying for me, hence my silence.  I was devastatingly ill, suffered a painful ankle injury and left a toxic situation for a new job simultaneously.  I wish running had supported me through this period, but it did not.  While if this were a person, I would have felt betrayed, instead I let it go and was accepting of letting running slip through the cracks of my hands, while focusing on nursing myself back to health: physically, mentally and emotionally. 

I did miss running dearly, however, and desperately hoped for it's return.  In fact, isn't there some old saying, 'If you love [it], let it go?"  If this adage holds true, then I truly am loved because running has returned.  The illness is gone, a promising new job is in order, and my ankle injury?  I somehow managed to run through.  My speed has suffered some, but that will come back in time. 

Where my races of 2011 were these unique, emotionally cathartic events, I'm finding that my 2012 races are more inquisitive and quietly intellectual.  They are celebrations and relaxed enjoyment paired with a fierce fire in my belly.  It's finally time to ramp back up to the big, important races that mean something.  This coming weekend I'm running Number Seventeen.  Where I'd normally be quite nervous about doing this after a running hiatus, I think I'm ready, especially after doing the Martha's Vineyard 20 Miler just a few days ago and managing a decent pace.  I'm excited. 

I'm also feeling a little confused and slightly derailed.  I think I need to re-evaluate my 2012 goals.  With the advent of a career change, it's also causing my schedule to change.  Not every run is a near-religious experience along the harbor anymore.  I'm finding myself diversifying my terrain and many of my runs are now underneath the branches of hemlock trees in a wooded nature reserve near my new job.  It's a big change, a definite contrast and a new chapter in whatever story this is becoming.  I know that I still want to make it to Number Twenty-Five this year.  I know I still want to run high mileage.  However, I'm wondering if it's time to finally just do it - to go for that full Ironman?  I think I know what the answer is, but there are a few additional logistical factors to address first, but really...what am I waiting for?  There's nothing.  All the turmoil and unrest has finally died down and it's as if I'm staring out at the horizon across the harbor; not the part with the islands and boats or cityscape, but the part that is essentially just a blank, horizontal line created by different shades of blue.  Nothing.

And then there is that unknown piece, that mystery piece.  I do not know who or how or what I will be in a few months, but that holds true for all of life.  I need to just tie my laces, take a courageous breath and keep running through this injurious confusion.  If running can prove that I can come out on the other side race ready as I am right now, then hopefully it will do the same elsewhere.  I think it's back; I love it, I let it go, and it's back now, hopefully for good.  Hopefully Number Seventeen will point me in the direction of the right answer, the right way, the right life.