Small?

The crowd was massive and it was going to get hot outside, I knew it, as soon as the sun was able to burn off the clouds.  Out in front of me I could see a sea of bobbing heads, descending the first major ascend of the 15k course in the very early morning air.  I felt like a single bird in the middle of those giant flocks that are typical of the fall time when the weather changes.  The air grows colder and they migrate south in a tight pack of several hundred; each moving individually but as one giant unit, an amoeba of energy against a cloudy sky.  My legs felt heavy in the soupy air and I told myself to just do the best I could do.  My racing has been less than stellar lately due to working through injury and sickness and head games and more sickness earlier this year.  So I found a rhythm and then found my head. 

One year ago on this weekend I ran a marathon and I encountered a ghost. One year ago I took a solo trip to the woods of Vermont where I spoke for months afterwards how something inside me changed that weekend.  I talked for ages on here about some impending BIG thing that was going to happen.  That weekend still stands out in my mind as being very, very different and special in a way that I just cannot articulate.  There were some things that weekend I discovered about myself; things that were very deep, very meaningful, very real, very tender and bold but quiet, subtle.  I had intentions of returning to Vermont this weekend but chose a different path instead.  Instead I found myself running a shorter race with more people in Upstate New York.  The weekend was good and the weekend was fun, but it still did not even begin to impact my soul as that weekend in Vermont had done.  Sure I'm left with bruises and memories and jokes and smiles, but it didn't even scratch the surface. 

I thought about all of this hard for the first 4 miles.  Upon cresting a hill and beginning a long, long, winding descend for the next mile, I could suddenly feel myself come back.  Even though this race was not a marathon and my number is currently stalled at twenty, I had that old, familiar feeling come back to me and my head and heart were suddenly in sync again; a feeling I have not had since the winter of last year.  And you know what?  My legs listened.  They actually listened!  Finally.  My legs listened to the rest of me and then suddenly I was running hard, running fast, running with all of my heart again and could feel the sheer and utter happiness that goes along with having a good race again.  It's been way too long and I have much work to do, however, that superficial weekend in New York brought me back.  I was dancing again. 

...Maybe focusing on BIG things isn't always the best approach?  Maybe sometimes, maybe, it's important to pay attention to the small things along the way.  They may have a bigger impact or result on the other side of the finish line.