Two days ago, for the first time in a long time, I ran.
*
There’s a little event held every Tuesday in Roanoke called the Pub Run. It begins at Wasena City Tap Room and loops through the greenway in either a three-mile or five-mile course.
It felt strange, and also comforting, to run in such a large group. Everyone there wore a glow bracelet, a headlamp or a flashing light, so that as the crowd strung out along the trail in the six o’clock dark — panting and glowing and sparkling — I felt suddenly like I was part of a slow-wheeling galaxy.
A river full of bobbing orbs of light.
*
It had been months since the last time I ran, and many years since I raced competitively, and I’ll tell you: I felt every one of those lazy days:
Heartbeat throbbing in my skull.
The crash of each footstep reverberating up through fragile tibia and fibula.
After a mile and a half, everything cried out at once:
Pain.
Pain.
Pain.
And I could have silenced all those voices like flipping a switch — could have plunged them into oblivion, and put another mile or two behind me without feeling a thing.
But.
*
Years ago, I learned the art of slipping out of my body when it pained me — a single step sideways into numbness.
Athletes learn this trick in moderation, and save it for important moments. They need to hear their bodies on a day-to-day basis… need to know which muscles are fraying and ready to snap. And so for them, the decision to listen to pain or to ignore it is a constant negotiation between the body and the will. A dance.
But there are other people who ignore their body’s suffering for so long that it ceases to cry out at all.
The body and soul live together, but they don’t speak, like that long-married couple you know who drift past each other in the hallway on their ways to separate bedrooms, exchanging only the most rudimentary words, the briefest glances.
I think you know what I mean.
*
And yet after all this time, I am learning: if you want to feel the pleasure, you must also feel the pain.
*
As I passed the halfway mark on Tuesday’s run, I felt long bands of pain reach around my torso and clench tight.
I ran slower, trying to keep my spine straight, my head up, but the pain worsened. It yanked one shoulder downward so that I cringed into a crooked shuffle.
And right then, I could have flipped that old switch: shaken myself loose from the pain and surged forward into the dark.
But I didn’t.
I decided then and there that if my Body and Soul are going to live together, then they might as well be intimate. They ought to feel each other’s joys … and also each other’s suffering.
And so I let the pain come.
I slowed.
The river of blinking lights parted and rushed around me.
I let myself be carried along.
*
A little while later, I crossed the finish line at a walk.
There was a hitch in my stride and a slow burn in my calves. The old stress fractures in my legs ached. Still — I felt whole and at home in myself, in a way I haven’t in years.
And it was good.
*
Oh, God … It was good.
*
Next week, I begin again. β€
Take it slowly. (I ran 25,000 miles on the roads in my forties, including 18 marathons, but I only competed with myself)
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Indeed.
I don’t have any aspirations to get into long distances any time soon … I’m not as young as I once was, and I have a lot of badly-healed stress fractures, both from dance and from running.
(And also: you can tell I trained as a sprinter from a mile away. I run like a miniature prize-fighter, on my toes, fists up. It’s terrible form for distance, and I know it, but I’ve never been able to stop. At least it’s good for a laugh. π ).
For now, think I can handle a few miles once a week on hard surfaces, especially with a better set of shoes, but we’ll see. If not, there are plenty of other things I can do to enjoy myself. π
I admire your 18 marathons … How are those knees??
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You hit on it. Knees dicey – but maybe it was rugby and cricket (both until 45). Had a new hip 6 years ago, but walked 2 hours a day until last year when right knee gave out. I could never sprint – that’s why I did long distance
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Ah, yes. You’re quite the athlete!
Hope you are taking gentle care of yourself these days and enjoying some slower, more contemplative walks. π
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No option π
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Breathe. Run. Baby. Run. I was thinking… Alpha Whiskey…I love so much your words and that is not a news for you I guess. What is likely you do not know is that I am writing a novel almost finished. It is a tragedy and I would be really really honored if you could write a short poetry (in English of course, I would quote it in my novel which will be in Italian) at your completely discretion about the subject. Then I would include it as a “quote” and you can specify me what I will have to include as reference (your name? Blog? Nickname?). Have a good day!
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Wow! Maybe you can tell me a little bit more about your novel’s themes some time and what sort of poem/quote you want and I can think about it.
I’m honored. π
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For sure…i will send you an email and a sort of summary. Yoi can find the cover here https://avvocatolo.wordpress.com/2015/10/29/lultimo-abele-storia-di-unossessione/
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π
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Interesting cover! I’m intrigued now…
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Er… I am not what in Italy we say a “skilled” perso …where I can find your email? π
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It’s on my About page!! π
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It is a three acts tragedy of a lawyer. At the very beginning of the novel, the main character says that before the end of the book his beloved partner will die.
He still has a few weeks to live with his partner and so he decided to begin to remember and remember and remember again.
He is ashamed of his name and will not reveal it until after 200 pages.
It emerges from his memories his migrate from south to north Italy looking for a job, trying to escape the poverty in which he has always been living for years.
He gets success and career and made lof ot money, but his private life implodes.
Meanwhile a man peering across sometimes leaves him money and so he can avoid to die for missing food (this is before the career goes ahead…pheraps..).
But in the shadows of his career, a friend plot a terrible betrayal. His career would be destroyed, just when a daughter was going to born.
It all seems to start a well foreseable end, but looks can be deceiving appearances and names are the first appearances from which we can be distracted…
I did not find your email! I am sorry π¦ So I am leaving this message as a comment, if it hurts you do not hesitate deleting it from your blog, I am not willing to use your blog as an advertising banner!
Sincerely yours!
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I love the comment. :). And I wish I could read Italian!
We’ll talk soon. π
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Ps you can also chose an old poetry you already published here or elsewhere…
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This is such a profound post. Thank you for writing.
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Thank you, lady!! Kind words. I’m grateful. π
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It shouldn’t surprise me that you’re a runner. Or Derrick. There’s more to say about this, but I haven’t figured it out yet. Probably won’t. Have a good run.
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π Maybe you can puzzle it out for us. Happy Friday, Joe! Lovely to see you here. π
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That level of self-care, and self-awareness is huge, congratulations, that sounds as though it may be a milestone for your healing.
=)
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π Thanks, friend. I’d like to think you’re right.
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Thank you for calling me friend, I am touched.
I am curious as to the wording of your reply.
monroeg76atgmaildotcom
I would welcome an email, if you feel comfortable with doing so.
George Monroe
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Another great post. Your imagery was fascinating. I pictured a thousand glow worms running in the night. Then, I adored your comparing the separation of body and soul as a disgruntled husband and wife. I felt your burn and pain at the end of this piece. Sometimes it is better to let the pain consume you and relish in its scorn. Ashley, you never disappoint.
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Well, you’re too kind. Thank you.
And glow worms … Yes!!
P.S. I saw a shooting star tonight! π Here’s to small magic.
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A shooting star. Wow. That is one of the things people miss living here in NYC. I hope you made a wish. And speaking of wishes, between you and I, I really wish you would write a book). But that’s another conversation.
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I’m grateful for stars. π All the more reason for you to get out past the city lights once in awhile and enjoy the quiet… It’s good for you city slickers now and again. π
And yes. A long conversation we can have sometime. π But thank you.
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I try to once in a while. Have a wonderful weekend AWF
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You too!! π
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Congratulations. (I wouldn’t dream of running again. Gimme walking for hours though)
π
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Nothing wrong with a good long walk! π
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Definitely. “Like a walk in the forest…”?
π
happy sunday “Alfa Zulu Tango”. (I know, not that code but I found your idea incredible.
Bravo Mike Oscar
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π
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Glad you stopped. Be gentle to yourself.
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Indeed.
I’m a gentle person … But I’m least gentle with myself.
Learning to turn compassion in my own direction. It’s good. β€
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I don’t know… but I believe you’re running for the “rush” and a “zone” that takes you out of pain rather than facing it. Most women with eating disorders run and exercise beyond what is considered healthy.
Running is bad for the knees. Walking is better overall for aging women or rather women of all ages.
And as for those married couples, you think we all know who you mean, well, I don’t know what you mean or how you are using the example in this. Resistance to exercise and not listening to your body is pretty different than ignoring someone you live with.
What you are seeking is self love. Not love from your partner to validate your love.
Right?
I know Tabby. I’m the painter she told you about.
I hope I’m not sounding or being mean by being honest… as I’ve lifted all filters and veils with you here. but I’ve known anorexic women who run. I know they go for the rush. It’s dangerous to make light of it. And I don’t mean to harm you emotionally. But straight up, don’t kid yourself about running. You’re still skinny as a rod. Don’t get caught up in the sparkly lights. You need balance and sobriety far more than magical thinking.
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Hi, Katherine … I hear what you’re saying (all important points). And actually? I’m pretty sure we agree on most of what you’re suggesting here, although our ways of describing things are a little different.
You’re right… Ignoring pain — really ignoring it — is a terrible habit for me, and one that definitely contributed to my eating disorder, years ago. While I’m not sure I experience it as a “rush” — I think for me it feels more like numbness, but we are probably describing the same adrenaline-driven phenomenon — that phenomenon is, as you point out, not a healthy thing.
This post is about *not* indulging in those old unhealthy ways of thinking any more.
It’s about listening to my body when it’s hurting.
It’s about being okay with walking, not running, even when all the other runners around me are passing me by.
Which is what I did last week — listened to the pain. Slowed down and walked. And actually enjoyed it! π I think the quiet slow walk at the end is what allowed me to enjoy those sparkly lights the most.
As for that old married couple you’re wondering about — they’re both me. Not my partner. Just me. It’s an unfortunate product of my disordered thinking that I still see my body and soul as two separate entities, like people who live together but ignore each other. Practicing self love, for me, means letting the body and soul speak to each other. It means hearing my body’s hurts and making deliberate choices not to ignore them. Being gentle with myself. Going easy.
And it’s funny, but I’m learning that being gentle with myself and going slowly just opens my eyes to *more* magic, which IS good for me — and I won’t apologize for that part. My magical thinking is the best part of who I am, and the part that brings me the most balance, health and joy… β€
I'm glad you're here. π Writing is a slippery business, and sometimes it's hard to say what I mean. Encountering questions and concerns helps me know when there's a little more slipperiness and misunderstanding than usual, and it gives me a chance to clarify my thoughts.
I think I may have misrepresented my experience a bit here, which is probably where your concerns are coming from. So, thank you… Good opportunity to go back and think about how to say it better. π
Happy painting!
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When you say you won’t apologize for that, I want to be clear you don’t need apologize for anything in my opinion either.
You didn’t owe me clarification, so this was a sort of a “make sure you’re really okay even though it’s none of my business” kind of thing as I have had too many real “red flags” from friends and co-workers to be comfortable ignoring them, but I don’t mean to rope you to your past as you have written about it… and lump the couple of posts I’ve read into one with any assumptions or projections.
Being gentle with yourself is good and I’m all for the magic. I would never want to take away the magic!!! π
Joy to you always and thank you for putting to rest my worries. The healing work of my sisterhood is important beyond my words. I’m honored to meet you.
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Thank you for that, lady!
And P.S. How can I find a link to your paintings? I’d love to take a look. If you’re comfortable sharing, please do. π
Enjoy your day!
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I don’t have my work in one place on line. It’s all spread out and in private collections or in other people’s books… as well as I didn’t enjoy blogging when I tried it and got some of my images stolen and used by porn sites, so I’ve just contributed to Tabby’s blogs as she experimented. She’s finally figuring out how she wants to separate and organize her different ideas. So…Currently there are two tiny illustrations you could see here: https://girlpoweracademy.wordpress.com/classroom-monitor-tabby-ren-elle/
(I did the logo and also the portrait of Tabby drumming… and they are “cartoonier” than my oil paintings)
and then there is the show I mixed colors for and this painting cake I painted on for the conceptual artist Jeff Koons years ago: http://www.jeffkoons.com/artwork/celebration/cake
but that was his vision and design and basically my steady handed-“paint by numbers” even though it looks like it has layers, and depth, it’s painted entirely flat, with colors creating the illusion more like how a silk screen places colors next to one another and not piled on top or textured.
Thanks for asking and for your receptivity and kindness in this back and forth with me. I like this about your strengths.
Enjoy the new day, you too. π
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I love this! Thank you for sharing — I’m sorry to hear about your stolen images. :(. That’s so discouraging.
I can’t tell you how fascinated I am by the process your describing about your “paint by number” cake. Truly incredible. I always wished I’d taken more time to indulge my painting (I loved it when I was young).
And I admire your opportunities for collaboration– I haven’t always had as many as I’d like, so I’m jealous (in a good way).
Thanks again for sharing! π
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Thank you.
You are collaborating now… tho.
Did you know that Kandinksy the painter did not begin until he was 40? Now his works are show cased in museums all over the world.
It is rarely ever too late to try anything.
Plus You have a face that should be painted… I’d love to see you try painting self portraits.
I like painting because when I get into my “zone” I can hear it sing.
peace on to you on your walk a bout today, sister woman. π
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You’re very kind, on all counts.
Yes, I should be painting, often, and even badly. Why not?! π
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Aw, you too.
You won’t be painting badly. Kids art is the best and they don’t know what they are doing. They capture essence. Spirit. And adult “pros” seem to all try to get back to that place in their work. So, you just play with the materials and do lots of looking which you are already good at…
Don’t be afraid to paint the shadows really dark. You like light and dark in your work… so follow your natural inclinations… See where the shapes sit next to each other to make lines rather than drawing the lines and coloring them in… if that makes sense. Make tons of mistakes. You’re supposed to.
There is NO badly. Just learning and ultimately it should make you feel happy. The process should trump the product. I say this “should” stuff for myself and not to rope you into anything at all.
I hope you do embark on painting again soon and often. π
“Why not?” is the best reason of all.
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I love this. All of it. Such spectacular thoughts. π
Thank you. You’re inspiring me. β€
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