The Motion Of Grace
It's in the rhythm of her footfalls, a steady, cyclical, soft flapping of rubber on asphalt, step by step, breath by breath. The first twenty minutes she struggles to settle down, settle in, relax and find her groove. The ongoing argument with herself plays out in her head: turn back now, this is too hard, you should be doing something else, ten minutes is good enough, how about later, just a little break, come on, comeoncomeoncomeon. Over and over she comes back to the sound of her feet, syncing her breath to her stride, alternating inhalations with exhalations on opposite strides. Stay loose, think tall, drop her shoulders, eyes up, belly on, hands loose, keep breathing. All these cues and mantras underscore the sound of her heart thumping, thumping, thumping until finally, magically, they fall away and she simply runs. This is the best part. The freedom of flight, lightness of being. Getting lost in her own movement, feeling omnipotent, like she could run away all the anxiety an...