Walking with the girls on Saturday, I saw the first rose of the year in a neighbor’s front yard. It surprised me; this is wisteria time. Rose time (and Spanish Broom) comes in May in our neighborhood. Who did that rose think it was, just blooming like that?
Then, as we walked past it — I was too startled and distracted to stop and smell it, unfortunately — I decided no, I liked this rose. Good for that rose, doing whatever it wants, being beautiful. That rose says, “Forget you, wind. Forget you, fluctuating temperatures. Forget you, quarantine. I’m going to bloom and be awesome, thanks.”
This weekend, my legs ached in a tired sort of way I haven’t felt in a while. I ran 5.54 miles (gotta love that Garmin precision!) on Saturday. It’s far from my longest run ever, but it’s my longest since getting a Garmin in January of 2019. Hooray! Hooray??
I’m trying to build my mileage gradually, intelligently. Some days it feels like I’m pushing the envelope, though — shoot, what exercise isn’t pushing the envelope for people right now? It feels kind of rebellious to be increasing fitness. To be building up instead of hunkering down. It feels empowering, but also counterintuitive. It feels defiant.
It feels it feels it feels…
We’re all feeling all kinds of things these days. Frustration, inadequacy, loneliness, exhaustion, fear, guilt, anger, the list goes on. BIG feelings.
Feeling tired after a run is a small feeling. But God, it feels good. Spreading my arms out like wings as I run down a hill (six feet away from everyone, of course) is a small feeling. The satisfaction/relief of listening to my body and giving it rest days? Small feeling. Tiny. No one else cares about these things, nor should they. Everyone has their own small feelings. And they’re awfully easy to overlook or shrug off.
But small feelings help us handle the big ones. They are release valves and they are oxygen masks. They enable us to be strong, beautiful, and defiant precisely when we need to be. They are vital.
Bloom, rose. Bloom like crazy.