Ready Ready Ready to Run

Yesterday I was in a MOOD. The usual suspects saw/heard my moody tone early on in the day and attempted to make life better.  But I had chosen to be ornery and no funny video or song on the voicemail was going to change my mind.

I got into Bleu after work, where I was far from productive, and called my Physical Therapist (PT).

"Hey, Kas. Are you calling to reschedule on me for tomorrow?"
"No! I need to talk to you."
"Well, its a good thing you called and I answered then."  He normally would have gotten a laugh out of me for that but I was on a mission and could not be thrown with his charm today.  His charm gets me to do all sorts of things I would normally refuse, like go up and down one step for 12 minutes to show him I can keep my shoulders back and not add pressure to my lower back because I'm lifting my legs properly.
"I need you to tell me I can run."
"No, I'm sorry.  You can't run. Also, you hate running."
"I've got to move and today I need to run, please."
"No, I'm sorry.  You can't run Kasi. You have a fractured L2. No batting of the eyes or well timed gaze is going to get you running. I like men."
"Okay, let's say that you said I could run.  What would my parameters be?"
"I didn't say you could run."
"Let's say you did.  I need to run or punch someone and as the latter is not quite my style, let's have me run."
"I'd rather have you punch someone."
"Let's say you'd rather have me run."
"Okay, if you were to go running without my approval I would tell you to stay away from the downhill and wear your brace.  I'd also tell you to stop running every two minutes and walk three so that you could see if you've ruined all of the work we've done."
"Okay, that's all I needed."
"Kasi, are you going running?"
"Yes."
Heavy sighs and then a wish for me not to completely kill myself.

I got home, made a bit of a mess of my space simply because creating chaos when you feel a bit chaotic is logical to me.  Then I tied my shoes and hit the pavement.

Folks!! I ran and I ran and I ran!! I have never been a runner, I'd do 2-a-days at Bikram to avoid running even a quarter of a mile.  But there was something therapeutic about the rhythm of my shoes hitting the pavement. I turned on Murdoch (who still gets a child named for him) and ran.  I did stop once or twice to be sure I hadn't killed myself or done something that PT wouldn't be able to fix.  But I was just fine.  My body knew it needed to get out. So Murdoch and I made our way through the fall trees, watched a beautiful sunset, smelling fall, and made it to institute (church mid-week class ~ it's a new thing I'm trying).  I was feeling excellent.  I had let go of the MOOD somewhere between mile 4 and 5 I think. Mile six had me beat but it felt so great to be in charge of my body, not letting it determine my sobriety or activity.

Also, God is funny. It was announced that class was on COMMUNICATION in relationships. Of course it was. I looked towards the heavens, laughed, and sent Boy a text indicating just how hilarious life can be. I was thrown a bit of a break when the teacher discussed the 96-97 Bulls vs. Jazz championship, won by the Bulls.

PT texted late last night.
"you dead?"
"Alive and well."
"you on meds?"
"No."
"are you sure you are not on meds?"
"Yes."
"did you run?"
"Yes! And I liked it."
"you are on drugs. i'll check in tomorrow."

But remember how I loved running yesterday? I just may do it again today.  I'm not in a mood.  But guys, I loved it.

Also, to add to that 'runners high' (which I thought was fake until yesterday), my D Rose is playing like a champ!! Diet (I love that all of you just pronounced his name wrong), Boy's boy,  and Good Man have indicated preseason is worth nothing but they are wrong.  Preseason is our vocal warm-up, it's our stretching ... it's vital.  It makes us happy. Tuesday night's regular season opener in Miami will increase my low blood pressure (thank you Gramps for that, its better than the lack of butt that comes from you as well) to be sure but cause my heart to soar with excitement as the two finest players in the league go head-to-head.

Also, I ran into Susan the other day at City Creek.  I'm certain it is because I haven't seen her since before Sherrie passed but there was a wave of relief that hit me as we spoke.  She reminded me of home.  She reminded me that the missionaries I love are out there, in third world countries, eating goat legs like its normal and more than happy with their Calling at current time.  It reminded me that people are kind and good, instinctively. It reminded me that people care for people, no matter how stubborn a person can be.  It reminded me that sometimes leaving work at 230 to meander City Creek is exactly what should be done.

Also, my parents come home in 54 sleeps.  Sister Bells will be home in 7 sleeps.  I'll be in CA in 8 sleeps, not running but rather facing life. Life is good, I'm a runner now.