Hello little friend, little fire burning.  I am embracing you.  Welcome.

I’m told that the Zen way to deal with depression is to welcome it in.  To not fight it.  This is the attitude I took as I stepped out of my house this morning.  It was a little too late, but I had 4 miles of block to block 2/1 on tap.  I would run 2 blocks, then walk 1, and increase the mileage to 4.

I felt the fire.  I did not relish the run, but knew from past experience that the only way through it, is, well…through it.  In only moments, I started to feel the constriction of my chest…thinking this is not going to be good…and NO…it’s not a heart attack.  I’ve been thinking I was having a heart attack for about 10 years now.  No, my doc says I have the lungs of a 35 year old.  Seriously.

I started the block to block and with high hopes of nailing this recovery run…just kept going.  I headed over the overpass, by all the familiar places, and it was like the feeling you get when you go to have coffee with a good friend.  I remember this park, and that street, and how many marathons have I trained on Spring Creek Road?  (The answer:  5).

I turned at a place in the hood where there are usually a yard full of attacking chihuahuas.  We always smile at them…as they chase right to the curb and then stop.

Up over the overpass, and as I headed down, that familiar lightness of a tiny shot of endorphins punctured my lungs.  And suddenly.  Lighter, freer.

My little fire was gone by mile 1, and I simply moved into the beauty of the day.  This.  This is why I run.

One thought on “Running Is My Anti-Depressant

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