I’ve decided to become a runner.
After three months on bed rest and then actually squeezing the little guy out, my body is not the body I remember. I feel weak, and I’m tired of it. So I googled up a storm and designed a plan to ramp up slowly into a running practice. Yesterday was my first day – I did thirty minutes; three walking followed by two running, repeated six times. It felt good.
The best thing about this plan is the two minutes. Running is hard, but for two minutes I can do just about anything. And unlike my usual attempts at running, I wasn’t playing the mental game of “how much further can I go” I knew exactly how much longer I would be running, which allowed me to switch my focus to the act of running. I spent the two minute intervals of running time trying to find a groove, a comfort in the motion of it. It was cool.
It reminded me of my writing. Just like exercise, writing is hard to get back into when you step away from it for any length of time. And that’s why a writing practice is so important. Rather than pushing myself to get through this chapter or word count or what ever, when I set aside time to write, and I accept that writing is what I’m doing, I can free myself to settle into it, to find a comfort in the challenge of it. By embracing the act of writing and ignoring the part of me that whines “this is too hard…” I can let go and fall into that zone, the one where words just pour.
And on that note, time to stop blogging and get back to the novel.
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