Ready, Set, Go

You know that feeling when you're about to embark on something you used to love, but now it feels like you're approaching uncharted territory? Yeah, that was me, staring at my running shoes like they were a pair of mystical artifacts.

Running used to be my happy place, my sanctuary, and my therapy session on the move. But AC, suddenly, I found myself questioning if I could still pull off a decent jog without tripping over my own feet.

So, there I was, tying up my shoelaces with a mix of excitement and nervousness. Running had always been my escape hatch from the chaos of life. It was my chance to hit the pause button on what I thought were “end-of-the-world” problems and be free.

AC, things felt different. What if my body revolted against the idea of running? What if my mind decided it had better things to ponder than the rhythm of my footsteps? The fear of losing that magical feeling hung in the air like a dark cloud over a picnic.

My sister graciously agreed to be my running buddy – although she doesn’t mind running, it's not exactly her cup of tea. So, I was seriously thankful that she came with me. I mean, sure, part of it was probably the protective older sister vibe, not wanting me to brave the running trails solo for the first time. But it also reminded me of how the people closest to me have been there for me during these past few months.

I never had a doubt, but both my sisters have gone above and beyond for me. Like, seriously, my eldest sister even turned into a skincare superhero while I was in the hospital, using a bedpan to splash water on my face every evening whilst applying my cleansers, toners, serums, and anything else I needed. But hey, that's a story for another day, right?

As we hit the pavement together, I could feel the butterflies in my stomach going wild. But as soon as my feet hit the ground, it was like a switch flipped inside me. Suddenly, the worries melted away, and it was just me, the open road, and a whole lot of pavement to conquer.

It felt like pure magic. My body was alive again, each step a celebration of freedom. I was grinning like a child who just discovered the joy of ice cream on a hot summer day, and I couldn't stop gushing about it to my sister.

We finished our 20-minute run, and even though every single part of me wanted to keep going, I knew better than to push it. Listening to my body has become my new mantra, and if it says it's time to hit the brakes, I’m definitely pulling over.

Now I’ve been for a run, it’s easy to think that this means I’m “going back to normal”. But we all know it’s never really back to normal again, is it? (I’m doing everything in my power to not say the overused phase of “new normal” …I guess I just said it.) But it's less about going back to what was and more about embracing what is.

Running isn't just about pounding the pavement anymore; it's about embracing the journey. I see it more as a step closer to acceptance. I’m accepting that my body still loves running as much as it used to and I’m happy about it. Acceptance isn't about settling; it's about tuning into what's best for my body. Thankfully, running is still something that is so important to me.