In the Moment
Photo by Glenn Kasin
As slow as January has been, life is about to move very, very fast. I'll have some important answers in the next month or two which will help to determine my future. In the meantime, I'm pretty much filling my everyday schedule to the max with work, running, and piano practice–three main things, but each time consuming in their own right. The total workload I'm putting on myself may be a recipe for burnout in the long term, but at least for now, I'm finding that I'm thriving in all the busyness.
I know I'm not alone in this, but I've found that the more structured and limited my time is, the more I get done. My house is tidier and my to-do's get taken care of more quickly. There's a sense of urgency. If I don't get it done in the time I have, well, then it won't happen at all and that's not good. So I just do it.
I've found that maxing out my time is a coping mechanism, like a drug of a choice. It is hard being in Portland when my heart is somewhere else. There are many things and people I love here, but sadly being here stirs up a lot of feelings of hurt as well. While I fully recognize that burying myself in busyness is not a long term solution, it sure is helping me get through the "now".
So in the present, I am just getting in a zone with whatever task I have in front of me–and it feels good. I'm spending most days on my feet for long hours (more on the days I coach), then I'll make it a goal to finish my run before the sun goes down. I'll start most of my runs feeling tired, then feel surprisingly good once I get going more times than not. It seems like fantastic multi-day training in that regard. I started a new job in which there are mandatory breaks, which keep catching me off guard. Breaks? What are these breaks?
Earlier this week, KT and I carpooled to Forest Park for a workout and I don't think I've ever whined so much about not feeling like running. We decided to run the steep, rolling BPA Road out-and-back in a low-key time trial. Neither of us had run it fast before, so the stakes were very low, which made the workout seem less daunting. Regardless, as we positioned ourselves at the gate marking the west end of BPA, I wanted to be doing anything but what we were about to do.
KT gave us a little countdown then we took off down the trail. All the feelings of "I don't want to do this" vanished and became replaced with, "I wonder what I can do?" I zipped down the hills, splashed through the mud, tagged the gate on the other side and began the long climb back up. BPA Road from the east gate is a steep, never-ending climb with multiple false summits. It hurts. I told myself that once I got to the actual top I would just jog it in the rest of the way. Once I got to the actual top, I thought, "Well I can't just stop trying now!" and strode out on the rolling hills back to the gate where we started. I slammed into the gate, folding over it like an envelope, then pressed the stop button on my watch.
The whole thing was kind of arbitrary, like "Hey, let's run there and back again as fast as we can!" but that was what made it fun. I had a moment of stillness afterward in the forest, where the only sound was me catching my breath. I looked up and saw a few remaining leaves tinged with light as the sun set, then looked down and noticed steam rising from my arms in the cool, crisp air. Breathless, spent, and free–those are the kinds of moments I live for.
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Thanks for reading. If this resonated with you in some way, please consider buying me a coffee. Your support gives me affirmation in writing and sharing my story, for which I'm so appreciative. Another great way to support is by sharing this letter with a friend or family member that might enjoy it too. Until next week! ~Mercury
This letter was originally published on January 23rd, 2022 via my newsletter. Subscribe to receive weekly letters in your inbox as soon as they're written.