I put on my old running shoes last night. The ones with the holes in the sides from my wide feet and the laces that are so ratty and torn up that they barely stay tied together, I wasn’t even planning on running like I did last night. I went to the gym to lift like usual and maybe hit the treadmill for a little bit. I was stuck in a Shameless Netflix hole and didn’t get to the gym until a little after 8 pm. I thought they closed at midnight (thanks roomie!), turns out they closed at 9. I finished lifting and was still a little hyped up from my pre workout so I figured a run at night around my campus couldn’t hurt. I took my headphones out and just started to run. My pace was a little faster than what I’ve been running on the treadmill, off and on for the last two months or so. But it didn’t hurt like I thought it would. I felt.. peaceful, tranquil. It was so quiet as I ran, with the stars above me, it was a feeling I hadn’t felt in months, maybe years. The first mile came and passed and I was feeling great, that runners high was back. Halfway through the second mile, I began to feel it. My muscles aching and my old grandma hips complaining and begging me to stop. But I kept going. And it was that feeling, the easy carelessness, that caused me to find myself in the middle of my campus at 10pm on a Friday night, sweaty and panting, yelling up at the sky. I probably looked like a crazy person but I didn’t care. Everything that I had been feeling for about two years or so, I just let it all out. I was standing in a neon sports bra and shorts with shoes with holes in them, talking to God for the first time in years. It wasn’t in my plan for the night but in this moment, it just felt right. I’m alive, I’m here. And I just thought He should know that.
I have come to realize lately that it’s all about perspective. I am not broken; I am healing. I am feeling. It sounds so cliché but I swear standing there, it was like He was right there with me. He was the breeze that blew around me and He was in the stars twinkling above me. I found the feeling that I think I have been searching for in the last few years, maybe even my whole life. The feelings that I searched for in bottles and people and relationships I should’ve stayed far, far away from. How I felt when I bought things I didn’t need with money I didn’t have, was just a temporary sort of joy. Becoming a person who I was ashamed of; a person who stayed away from her family because I was terrified to death that they would see who I had become too; a lost soul trapped in the noise of the world.
I’m not really sure what the point of this post was but it has been six months since I wrote on this lil blog of mine and when I finished my run, writing something just made sense. I can’t take back the mistakes of my past, especially the ones made in 2016, but these last six months, moving to a new state and starting over again, has refreshed me. I have a new focus, a new passion, and moving forward, I am curious to see what comes in my future. I am not perfect, I am far from it. I’m just a girl who has learned a lot from my mistakes and I am ready to share and talk about my experiences because if an impromptu run on a Friday night can save me, maybe I can help save someone too.
I ran four miles last night. I’m not fast like I used to be but as life goes on and we grow and become the people God has meant for us to be, I don’t think we are ever supposed to go back to the people we were because that would be counterproductive of His plan. My shoes fell off around mile 3 because of those ratty old shoe laces and I stopped and looked back at them and just kept running. I’ve had those shoes for the last four years and like lots of things, they too needed to be left in the past. I ran the last mile in socks that didn’t match and I didn’t have a care in the world, I was free at last. When I was done stretching, I just stood at the entrance to my dorm with “The End or Start Again?” by Mod Sun playing on my phone, grateful. Grateful I found Him again and that He is still there after witnessing all the awful mistakes I have made. Grateful for a God who still listens even though I am far from deserving. Grateful for gyms that close early and for a pair of old sneakers that lasted through four years of runs and lifting only to be tossed in a closet, forgotten until I couldn’t find my favorite pair again and then taken out for one last, unexpected run.
I drove to the beach this morning and saw that those old sneaks of mine are still sitting on the side of University Boulevard, right where I left them. I smiled to myself and drove on. Life right? God, actually.
And I’m alive. I’m here. I’m back. Renewed.