Are You Passionate?
The cursor on the page kept blinking at me. A blank page that needed to be filled, but no words seemed to come. I stared outside at the bright blue skies and fresh flowers popping up across the yard. I needed to write, but I felt scatter-brained, and my heart just wasn’t in it.
Despite the coffee and Diet Coke, I could feel my eyes getting heavy. Instead of napping, I picked myself up off the couch, which seconded as my home office, put on my running shoes, and stepped out the door for a run: a run for fun.
To call the past 48 hours an adventure would be an understatement. A cancelled flight, a new flight, a delayed flight, finally landing in Nashville, Tennessee. Meeting new friends, picking up race packets, carb-loading at a restaurant with terrible service, but laughing through it all. Waking up at 4AM to eat, hydrate, then head to a race start. Run and finish one of the hardest half marathons to date despite rolling hills and high temperatures, all with my head held high and a smile plastered to my face.
Today, the pavement and temperatures don’t work against me. I’m running on familiar roads in my hometown in Connecticut, feeling grateful to have a healthy body and mind strong enough to carry me to a happy place. A place where I can blast the music so loud that I can’t think. A place where I feel like I’m flying and conquering Mount Everest as I climb steep, but comforting hills.
When I left the house, I didn’t realize I was crossing off another item on my “25 Before 25” list, but for the first time in what felt like years, I ran for fun and found something I had been missing: my passion for running. And boy had I been needing to be reminded of why I call myself a runner.
Since 2010, I’ve run four half marathons, two of which were in April 2012. I never thought that I, the girl whose happiness spawned from this hobby, could let my passion shrivel to another thing I just had to get through during the day. But the day after running half marathon number four, the fire that lit in my belly, the endorphins that pumped through my veins and the runner’s high that hit at the end of the easy six miles brought me back to me, the runner.
I feel unbelievably grateful that I’m healthy and strong so that I can run as much as I want, but it’s the true passion that I have for this activity that makes my heart full. Finding something you care deeply about is one thing, but it’s when you think you’ve lost it, only to find you can easily rediscover it, that’s a true passion.
What do you consider one of your passions? Is it running, like me? Or something else that you enjoy doing, something just for you?