The day I found my fingers and toes
It was a great day at the gym today. After my 5km run, I lay on the exercise mat and stayed there for a long time.
It’s rare to have a quiet moment to yourself these days. And I don’t mean just being by yourself physically, but real quietude. A sense of close proximity with yourself. It’s that feeling of a moment when you feel your thoughts and body come together that’s not usually felt in the humdrum of everyday life.
15 minutes of laying there, I started to move. It was as if my body had suddenly re-discovered its natural freedom. I was dancing. I looked at my fingers and toes with new gratitude. It was as if they had left me and had found their way back. It didn’t take me long to realize that it was I who had forgotten them.
Running has always been a metaphor for me. You can run towards something as surely as you can run away from something. This life, haven’t we always called it a marathon, Jesse?
It’s common knowledge that running helps to release endorphins that simulate feelings of happiness. But it is also a cathartic expression of individual empowerment. Whether towards or away from something, it is an act of movement, an act of non-stasis. It is, in fact, an act of life.