After 2 weeks of not running

A couple of weeks ago when I was running, I realised my feet hurt. The pain would start in the arches of my feet and creep up the insides of my calves as I kept going. Sometimes I would have to stop while en route down or back up the river, to let the pain subside before continuing, knowing that the pain would come back sooner or later.

After reading terrible possibilities of tendonitis and plantar fasciitis, I decided to stop. To completely boycott for a week or two to give my feet and muscles a chance to heal.

The thing is, I really love running. There's something transcendent about the move from inertia to excitement, and tiredness to a complete freedom and a sense of almost flying, especially in the last couple hundred metres of the run.When I run I feel like my sense are heightened, I see more clearly the beauty God paints in a sunset, my skin sighs when the sun touches it, or when the wind cools my red face.I love people watching as I run, wondering what other runners are thinking, what the couple on the bench are there for, how happy that man slouching by is.

So not-running was not-easy. I itched to get out there, I had to distract myself with stranger recipes in the kitchen, I ran marathons across deserts in my dreams.

Not-running seemed to me a state of resistance against the voice in my head that says 'Be stronger, be faster, be further' and instead finding bravery in being soft. Letting go of what I knew worked to make me feel joy, and finding joy in the small space of my room rather than the vision of the wide expanse of a sun-brushed field. Letting go of what I thought my body needed, and satisfying it's need for rest. Not-running gave me a certain clarity and calm that I'd missed.

I found myself having more time to write in my diary.

I found myself walking to places more often, and breathing in the sights and sounds of the city that can get blurred as I run by.

I found myself not feeling as if I had to exercise to justify a cracker or six of bananas and almond butter.

I discovered a hill I'd never seen before, and watched a sunset by myself.