What I'm running from.

Last Summer my mom looked at me after I'd made dinner for the family and collapsed on the floor with frozen peas and carrots lining my legs, an18 mile morning run finally taking its toll, and asked me, "What are you running from?"  Note she did not ask "Why do you run?" or "What motivates you to run?"  She just got right through all of that beat-around-the-bush-fluffery and smacked me in the face with "What are you running from?"

I responded how any 29 year old only daughter would - "What the hell is that supposed to mean."  And so it went from there.

About a year later, while I realize it helps to focus on where I'm running to, I've developed a list of things I actually am running from.  For my mom:

1.  My blackberry and every ding, buzz, ring and clang I've sent up to differentiate my work email from my home email and my texts from calendar invitations and deadline reminders;

2.  forced communication with anyone - out on a path there is no talking, there is only breathing and stepping;

3. my need to make lists of everything from what's for dinner on any given night that week to what brief is due on what day for what client and when a draft needs to be circulated to all interested parties for comments, red/black/green lining and so on - there is no paper and thankfully not a pen in sight on the path;

4.  my hairdryer, makeup, perfume and any derivation thereof:  nothing matters but putting my left foot in front of my right quickly enough to work up a sweat;

5. the vacuum and household chores that I would spend endless free time doing if not for a run calling my name and pulling me outside - I grew up in one of those houses that could have been on the cover of Southern Living (and probably will be some day) and subconsciously (growing ever more consciously) I find myself fixated on attaining my mom's own perfection;  and finally, (and most obviously)

6.  myself.  I think everyone needs a place they can go to turn off the mind and just follow the spirit.  Running in just that for me.  No matter the path or the pain, it takes me away on a mini-vacation and brings me back well-rested, less wound up and ultimately, smiling.

So it is after days, like today, that begin with a green monster, 11 miles through beautiful and beautifully desperate parts of the city and a great stretch by a fountain, that remind me who I am without all of the "other stuff" life piles on top.

I guess I am running from something after all, mom.