Beauty

Oh, how I behold the beauty of my walking route. It takes me on hills overlooking Puget Sound and Mount Rainier. It drops me down to the waterfront only to be showered with shady trees and views of the Vashon Island ferry. It picks me up as I travel up more hills overlooking ravines and beautiful homes. The clouds whisper my name and the sun shines on my face. I am free. ...Except for the occasion when I find myself pushing a 30 pound girl plus a 10 pound stroller up one of these massive hills. At these times I find the only thing I can muster is a laugh.

Near the end of my pregnancy with my first child (6 years ago) I began fantasizing. My fantasies were of running. I wanted to be free. I wanted to run up North 30th Street hill as fast as my little (well big at the time) legs could take me. I wanted to feel the wind on my face. I longed for a drink of beauty that did not come at the cost of contractions or knee pain. I didn't know at the time what it would take to be free again. My child wrapped his heart around mine like morning glory. After pregnancy I did indeed run my hills again. I also walked these hills many times with a baby in tow. Slowly, however, as the morning glory wrapped its thicker and stronger vines around me, as my baby turned into a toddler with needs and wants of his own, I found myself forgetting the feeling of being free. I found myself pregnant again. Near the end of this pregnancy all I wanted was a Dairy Queen blizzard. I had no fantasies of running.  I was happy to be having another wonderful bundle of joy. I never (rarely) ran again.

I am trying to free myself. My walks lately have helped. The rowing machine in our basement helps (when I remember to use it). My next door neighbor inspires me when I hear her gate close at 5:30am and I know she is off on a run. When I do on occasion bring my not-so-little bundle of joy on one of my workouts I am amazed to find myself again fantasizing about running the hills. This causes me to laugh, I am on the road to recovery.