Soul Massage

My alarm sounded at 7:21 this morning, and I hit the snooze alarm. Before it could go off again, Sherry texted me, "See you soon." I had agreed to meet her at 8 so we could go run at San Felasco State Park. But I don't even get up for work this early. What the hell was I thinking?  I dragged myself out of bed, pulled on my running gear, and met at her house.  We chatted on the half-hour drive up to the park, and I began to wake up.  But just as we turned towards the trails, the sky opened up and it began to rain.  Hard.  Puerto Rico Hard.  I wasn't sure if I could bring myself to get out of the car.

Sherry planned on running for 1 1/2 hours; I was only going to run for about 30 minutes.  Filled with more ambition than I had, she took off.  I stayed in the car attemting to muster enough will and waiting in vain for a break in the storm.  I knew I needed this run.  I've been nearly sick by the thoughts plaguing me lately.  A story on NPR was enough to push me over the edge that if I didn't go now, I might start breaking things.

I cranked Lupe Fiasco on my iPod and took off. Most of the paths at San Felaso wind though an old oak forest.  But I chose to follow the two-track road through a grassy pasture. My brain already felt claustrophobic; I didn't need the trees closing in on my body too.  Rain drops ran down my head, my face, shoulders, arms, legs.  Before long I was soaked. Yet, it was a calming warm rain, a shower that washed away some of my tension.

I glanced at the pasture with low rolling hills.  In the rain it seemed beautifully still.  By the time I finished running, my shoes and socks were completely saturated.  I removed them before walking back to the car.  They only provided a foundation for blisters at that point.  Puddles in the road were ankle deep and the soft soil massaged my feet.  I reached the car and raised my hands in the rain like Andy Dufresne at the end of The Shawshank Redemption.  My run was a small endeavor, but today, adjusting my mindset was a grand accomplishment.