There is a calm before dawn, a husky, fibrous, determination that lingers in the fog. It’s a calling, a whisper, a tugging invitation that beckons me early in the morning. And for all its calmness, there is a hidden desperation; as if the world yearns to be explored in its stillness, before the explosion of life and light.
“Come forth,” it whispers, “put on your bravery, don your courage – plant you toes in my soil and I will comfort you”.
This peace, this quiet soulfulness etches its way into my very being on my morning runs – like an overused etch-a-sketch that retains its previous masterpieces. Running has forever changed my life. I have enjoyed learning how to be productive without frantic, how to be quietly appreciative of my new self. I say my ‘new’ self, because we are all in constant flux and flow. This can be a terrifying reality. As they say; “People often fear the change that doesn’t jingle in their pockets”.
My recent thoughts have been about this quiet time and how much I’ve gained from it; mostly how much I’d like to share it. My oldest son, Xavier (7), has expressed an interest in running. He is a sensitive, active soul, who constantly is absorbed in learning and challenging boundaries. A few weeks ago both he and my daughter, Terese (10), participated in the 1km fun run held during the YMCA half marathon. They, along with the children of our dear friends (and the recipients of many a banana bread) ventured out in the winter storm that day to strike out new ground. Xavier let loose like a rabid wolf from the start and returned at gasping jog. He was flushed with determination and the joy of his race was beaming from his eyes. (All of the above of course spoken from that knowledge a mother has about their children even when they can’t see them!) All four of the kids thoroughly enjoyed themselves. It is wonderful to find something new to share with my children.
Since that day, Xavier’s mentioned his ongoing interest and I’ve only found the time once so far to actually take him out. Now this is a difficult story to share, as with anything a mother does, there are so many levels, so many occurrences all in the space and time of twenty minutes, that it is hard to describe them. After a while they blend together like the raw ingredients of a quiche…. You know that once upon a time there were eggs separate from everything else, you just can’t figure out how.
His excitement upon leaving the house was phenomenal. It was like watching popcorn about to explode with new life. It seemed like he was about to run his first marathon. I have to learn how to bottle that energy. However, when you are out with your children, you tend to be protective. You also tend to follow all the rules and set good examples. Xavier found it difficult to understand that we were ‘allowed’ to run on the road. “Did they give you special permission mommy?” At what point does that my-mother-knows-everything feeling fade? Did you hear that thud? That was the sound of me falling of my pedestal.
There was also the issue that we were guide free, which gave Xavier an extra job. It was a difficult job because he was still so excited that he has started to stutter and use a supersonic speed and volume while talking. There was also the fact that I started him the way I was started; with 1 minute running and 1 minute walking; remembering to be slow enough that he could breath and talk normal. (A difficult task what with the supersonic monolog that he had going). Most obvious was his desire to tear off into the distance leaving mommy in the dust (or snow in our case). He tried to run slow, bless his little overworking heart, he tried. In the end it looked like he was doing a rendition of a zigzagging stupor – taking five over zealous steps for each one necessary step.
Due to my poor vision I often explain to my kids that I see with my ears. In this situation it was difficult to hear (see) anything because Xavier was zigzagging and supersonic speed talking all around me. I felt displaced from my usual serenity of my morning runs with the stampeding elephant sized bumble bees dancing around me. It was glorious. Timing the minutes was provided another interesting twist as it was more distraction for my eyes. As I kept checking the clock; I was trying to place myself in space using the sound of Xavier’s feet as a GPS device.
My goal was to fill his 7 year old soul with pride, determination and eager stillness. Instead he filled mine with energy, love and humour. Looking at the horizon with Xavier by my side; both pairs of runners double knotted, both pairs of hands shaking with cold, made me grateful for the opportunity to be grateful. I think the Toronto 5 km zoo run is Xavier’s big goal. As for my horizon? I see Sunday’s Achilles 5 km St. Patrick’s Day run going well, surrounded by good friends and running feet. Then, in the distance, I see Ottawa’s 10 km calling me forward; encouraging me to etch a new sketch in my soul – to become a new me, one step at a time.
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