These last few weeks have been both a test of my durability and confirmation for how much I love running. Now, as much as I try to act like it, and most days am able to pull it off, I am not made of steel nor am I invincible. I act like Superwoman but really I’m not. These last few weeks the burning of both ends is taking it’s toll. Being “The Art Department” for the theater group that my kids have all taken part in is nothing new. I’m accustomed to the hard and detailed work it takes to make sets for a play/ production. It’s so much more than paint and trash bags. It’s managing and delegating and thinking outside the box for everything. It’s fighting for attention to finish what you need to by show day. It’s long hours after long hours and days on end of not falling into bed before 11:30 or later while still getting up for your regular day at 5:15. It’s super sore and bruised knees from kneeling on a hard cement floor or from climbing up scaffolding to put finishing touches on. It’s burning your fingers with a stupid glue gun and having perpetually dirty nail beds because you’re too tired to scrub the paint out of them. it’s giving up your lunch to go home and ready dinner so you can change and head out the door for 4 more hours of work that drains you because you have to laser focus on cutting pool noodles with dull scissors because you lost your sharpener. It’s so much work but it is so rewarding come show day. The downside to this life is that everything aches all the time. Knees, joints, legs. Your eyes burn all the time and you feel like you just got off the red eye from LA. Your shoulders and neck complain all day too. All of these aches do not help me get out of bed nor do they do anything to convince me that I want to drag my sorry ass out the door for a run. I’m run down and getting it done is harder than it’s ever been for me. I don’t think I’ve ever spent this many days convincing myself to get my gear on and giving myself a pep talk to get motivated. This is the hardest running I’ve probably done because I’m doing it being worn down. Once I get out there, it all seems to blow off like dust in the wind. Aches only ache for a short while before the joints and gears get warmed up and greased for the duration of whatever I can put up that day. Tired takes a back seat to the cool air and silence of pre-dawn serenity as I make my way through the neighborhoods. I wish I could retain that running high all day because those minutes where I feel so awake and alive and happy are the best of these last few weeks before stiffness shakes off it’s sleepy head and reminds me that I should buckle up because it’s going to be a draggy kind of day. It doesn’t seem to matter how I’m feeling or what I’m dealing with. If I’m tired, running wakes me up. If I’m sad, running makes me happy. If I’m angry, running works out the stress so I can get on with my day without becoming a total bitch. If I’m happy, running is super enjoyable. If I’m feeling blech, Running makes me happy. No matter what, running is the antidote or the enhancement to my mood and it just happens magically depending on my current situation. I love running and it loves me. I’m addicted to it for sure and I wish I had fallen in love with it before now. No matter. I’m here now and I’m committed for as long as I can. I wish everyone could love it like I do.