Respect the road.

There is a road that I run all the time.

Since I’m currently training by myself, I get to decide where I run. I avoid this road as much as possible. But during cross country season, when I’m at the mercy of my coaches, most of our workouts involve the road in some way.

Going down is smooth sailing. Going up is hell.

photo credit: nelseverydaypainting.blogspot.com

The road is more like a hill, a giant, mile-plus long hill. It’s on a constant incline and, as you get closer to the top, it gets steeper.

At first, I absolutely loathed this road.

I always hated it in the beginning, because it turned even my best runs turn into something that made me feel like I was putting myself through torture.

The road is sometimes unforgiving. The more you climb, the weaker your legs feel, the more your lungs burn, the more you feel like your brain is about to explode.

I used to fight it. Each day, I felt like I was preparing for this great battle, in which only one victor would prevail: me or the hill.

But, eventually, I started to realize that it wasn’t really a battle of physicality; it was more so a battle of wit. I learned to work with the road instead of against it and things started to make more sense.

I learned to take advantage of even the tiniest bit of downhill, to take the straightest line possible. I started to read the road, to take note of how it felt when I ran a certain way.

To this day, I still don’t like running it. But, I’ve learned how to do it properly.

The road used to be some foreign, intimidating beast that I thought I would never be able to understand. Now, I realize that it was really just an old, wise mentor for me, my very own Mr. Miyagi. 

Last night, I was headed up the road on the bus and, as I looked out the window, I knew exactly what point we were at solely based on the glimpse I caught of the tops of the oak trees. It made me smile, seeing how far I’ve come.

The same miles of curving pavement that used to seem endless to me are now ingrained into my memory, including details down to which tree is positioned where on each corner.

The countless days of practice, all of the sweat-soaked t-shirts and aching muscles really did pay off, in so many more ways than for just my running.

If only I knew back then just how much I would come to understand the road and how much it would come to understand about me.

I wouldn’t have believed it three years ago.

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when the sun changes

How do you make the sun come up faster?

I asked the internet, but there weren’t any answers. It didn’t seem like anyone has ever asked this question before.

I’ve been trying to figure it out recently. The sun goes down later now, which I like, but I forgot that it would also start to rise later.

I’m not mad about it necessarily, I actually like to watch the sunrise sometimes. I just wish it would still come up at six every morning instead of seven, like it does now.

Image via blogspot.com

I always say that I wish sleep was optional. I love waking up early and I love staying up late, which becomes problematic when I’m running on five hours of sleep and way too much caffeine.

I fell asleep with my window open today. I didn’t really think much of it.

It was about eleven thirty in the morning when I went to sleep and I woke up three hours later.

It had gotten much breezier by the afternoon. And the light had changed.

I’ve always loved how the shifting sun makes everything look different. There is a distinct difference between how the light looks in the morning and in the afternoon. At 9 am, everything is bright, more of a white light. But by 3 or 4p m, it’s so much more yellow. And it feels different too, especially in the summertime.

I don’t know how to describe it exactly, I just know how it feels.

I’m still trying to find more ways to make the sun come up faster. I’ll let you know if I do.

my thoughts on time.

I prefer not to measure time in minutes.

Maybe that’s because it scares me,
time does.

But, it’s comforting to think
that the same wet grass I
walked across today
will soon turn brittle and dry.

“The Persistence of Memory” via allthatsinteresting.com

It’s comforting to think
that, with the help of the rain,
the fields will fill up with wheat,
which will later be cut down
and turned into hundreds of bales of hay,
all lining the bottom of the hillsides
in a grid of little golden rectangles.

Then, in time, they will be shipped off
to somewhere far away from here
and the cows will return to eating
the new grass, gently swishing
their tails as they chew.

It’s comforting to think that
the world will continue to spin
and the sun will set tomorrow
and the next day,
just as it is meant to.

And I hope,
that in time,
I will see, and do, and live
just as I am meant to.

Love

Love always seemed fun to me.

It always enticed me and made me want to fall into it.

I was so excited when I fell in love.

But, I realized pretty early

I never really fell into love, I crashed into it.

I was reckless and lost it.

Then, I felt like I lost myself.

Without love, I was confused and miserable.

Everything seemed hopeless and dumb.

Falling again seemed like something only idiots would do,

I promised I would never fall again.

 

Then, I met you.

Photo Credit: Pinterest.com

 

I don’t even know if I could call this falling.

It feels as if I’m floating up to cloud nine,

All my cares fade away when I’m around you.

It’s as if nothing else matters.

I’m no longer scared to fall, because I know your arms will always be there.

Your hands are soft and sweet and when you wrap me up in them, I feel your strength.

In your arms, I am not scared to fall.

Because I know I’m not falling,

I’m floating.

I am not Sad

I assumed things I shouldn’t have.

I thought it was a date.

But, I’m not sad it wasn’t.

I am just a little disappointed.

 

I thought about my outfit for days.

I planned everything out, down to the perfume I was going to wear.

But, I am not sad that I did that all for nothing.

I am just a little disappointed.

 

Photo Credit: Pinterest.com

We were supposed to drive around and do stupid things in our cars.

Instead, we sat in your truck and watched the sunset, talking for hours.

I am not sad I spent that time with you.

I am just a little disappointed.

 

The way we talked was not how friends talk.

The things that were said were clearly more than friendly.

But, I am not sad it meant nothing.

I am just a little disappointed.

 

I blabbered about us hanging out and me having feelings for you.

Then I asked if it was a date and if you were into me and all I heard was you weren’t over your ex.

I am not sad.

I am just a little disappointed.

 

I know you need time and I understand that, but why did you let me believe that there was something between us?

I am sad that you flirted with me.

I am disappointed that she is still in your head, but I understand.

(I’m calling dibs when you’re ready)

The Future

I keep trying to help myself.

I think about future dates,

the person I’ll marry,

and the next person I’ll love.

But, no matter how many times I try, the only person I picture is you.

I want to not think about you,

I don’t want to remember you

Why did you tell me you wanted to marry me?

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Why did you say you wanted three kids with me?

Why the fuck did you want to plan a future with me, if I ended up out of it?

Why did you tell people you loved me?

Why did you take me to meet your family?

Why did you cry when I told you I loved you on that cold December night?

Did the cold get to you? Did you need some warmth on that winter night?

If it was all real, how did it all disappear?

Creeping it Real: High School Halloween

When I was three, my parents told me about the Halloween Pumpkin. I could keep as many pieces of candy as my age and if I put my the rest of my candy on the door step before I went to bed, the Halloween Pumpkin would come during the night and leave me a toy. They made sure to tell me that he would only come if you gave him a couple days notice and only my parents could deliver my wish to the Halloween Pumpkin. At least a week before October 31st,  I would contemplate for hours (or at least what felt like hours to a young child) about what types of candy I would keep and what amazing toy I would receive the morning after Halloween.

Last night, my friend and I went to go to a haunted house. The house was closed, so they gave us a bunch of candy. I figured, I’m really not going to eat this because of carbs, sugar, and the amount of calories. When I got home, I went up to my parents’ room.”Bey, remember the halloween pumpkin,” I asked. “If I put this on the door step, will it magically turn in to twenty bucks by tomorrow morning? Tell ya what, I won’t even keep fifteen pieces”

“Nice try,” my parents said. “But, no.”

When I was younger, I remember going trick or treating every year.  I would count down the minutes until I could knock on doors and hold out my spookily-decorated candy basket. My friends would start counting down the days until the magical holiday as soon as October 1st rolled around.

Nowadays, it seems my Halloweens consist of hours of homework with the occasional  annoying interruption of happy children knocking on the door.

Sometimes, I wish I could just put my Halloween candy on the front porch and the Halloween Pumpkin would come during the night and give me what I wished for: the chance to be kid again.

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