Steadfast

On the morning of the Great Race, runners were herded onto PAT buses, transporting us to the start line.  It was standing room only by the time I shuffled my way on. I stood in the center aisle holding my phone and ear buds in one hand and gripping the metal bar above me with the other. My mind wandered through a dozen thoughts as we swayed back and forth to the stops and starts. Just in front of me, a young couple stood close to each other face-to-face. The woman, a thin fresh faced blonde probably about 23, gave her boyfriend a little peck on the cheek. It was sweet, made me smile. I wondered if they were nervous about the race. To my right another couple was sitting holding hands. He had a bushy red beard and a cool looking septum ring. She had cranberry red hair and long, hairy legs. The words of a good friend popped into my head. Well… theres a lid for every pot. I smiled again and gazed out the window as we passed concrete walls splashed with grafitti. I’m not sure if I believe that statement. I’m not sure if there is a lid to my pot.  I’ll be content either way. I mean, you can cook plenty of things without a lid. We hit a pothole and I clenched tighter to the bar as we bounced. I got an unfortunate whiff of the guy’s ripe pits behind me. Truly, it would’ve been a great deodorant commercial. I scrunched my nose and looked around to see if anyone else noticed. I was surprised at how many couples were on the bus.  Hmm, I don’t know if I could do that. Running is something I do to decompress from everything and everyone. I dated a guy once that mentioned the possibility of joining me on some of my runs. He meant well, but it actually sounded like a bit of a nightmare to me. If I were to be in a relationship with someone, running would have to be my thing. I’m not sure if that means I’m independent or selfish; maybe a little of both. Its funny, there’s such a fine line between independence and selfishness but their outcomes are drastically different. A selfish person will hold on too fiercely to something they want, but an independent person will know when it’s time to let go. Running didn’t teach me that-life did. But running does help find the balance. It’s like discerning the subtle difference between pushing hard or overtraining. Experience allows you to do that. It also teaches you how to draw on certain muscles when the others start to get weak. It’s just like seeing the good in others versus giving them too much credit, being humble versus selling yourself short, or being cautious versus being jaded. Staying on one side of the line will keep your soul content, crossing over could crush it. I’m still trying to get a lot of it right. Although, no one can ever accuse me of not knowing when to let go.

I feel for anyone who has had to make the choice between following a loved one or staying behind. For me, I always knew what the right answer was, but often the choice isn’t so clear.  And even then, it’s extremely difficult. A few years ago my boyfriend of 5 years made the decision to move to Texas. Even though he wanted me to go with him, he did explain that money would be his first priority. If I have one piece of advice to give, it’s to never accept being second place. The night we had the break up conversation I felt a little relief… at first. He gave me a goodbye hug and I shut the door behind him. With the turn of the lock, the weight of my decision came crashing over me like a tidal wave. It blindsided me. I still can’t understand how it’s possible to feel so empty but so heavy at the same time. I thought my heart was gone. For some weeks, I alternated between overwhelming grief and numbness. Here’s where running helped me the most. In the mornings I would drag myself out of bed and go out for a run in the park. It would bring me temporary relief. I know it was the endporphins, but it was something else too. I would run, taking one step after another,  knowing each one would take me farther away from the pain. I knew I was eventually going to be fine. I knew it, but couldn’t feel it. Until one day after a speed run, I felt my heart pounding fast in my chest. There it is! It’s not gone, it’s mine. My heart will always be mine and it’s up to me how much of it and with whom I share it. Whether or not anyone chooses to stay in my life will not change who I am. That’s true for everyone. I thank God for helping me realize this. I am eternally grateful that things worked out the way they have.

The bus slowed down as we approached Frick park. I felt a twinge of excitement.  I shifted my feet for stability as I let go of the bar and attempted to pin my race bib to my tank. I hoped it would be a good race. Sometimes all you can do is keep taking steps, hoping each one keeps you on the right course. You’ll eventually gain enough wisdom to know where to place your faith. Then you can be grateful for every experience, every hurt, and every joy. Nothing brings true happiness like knowing that things are just as they should be.
I don’t know what the future holds for me or if theres some elusive lid out there for me. I just know that I’ll never let anything shake me, not even a stranger’s stinky armpits or Pittsburgh potholes.