I’m writing to you from within a heightened awareness of the sinus cavities in my head - spring has sprung/ing outside of our home, and with it my annual inclination to run, which coincides with the trees’ compulsion to fuzz out.
Good Friday, in some parts, and Grief Friday in others.
No leaves, no green, just botanous caterpillary bursts of histamine triggers communicating a reproductive proclivity in a language my body grossly misinterprets. So while I did my WEEK ONE DAY 1 Couch to 5K last Saturday, and my second Monday, Wednesday was thwarted by snow/ice, and each day since I have worried a touch more that attempting to run through the mask of sinus congestion will surely overwhelm my heart and I will fall over dead, the slowest mile on the books immediately preceding.
My new acupuncturist says I have some anger. It’s a Liver thing, which has a few layers of irony, and the problem isn’t the having of the anger, but the finding of healthy ways to express it. You know. Other than keeping it in. Burying it beneath jolly social posts and superficial well wishes?
Previous to this acupuncturist, I saw one who suggested that I scream into a pillow or find nonviolent ways of lashing and thrashing my body, which all sounded good in theory and simultaneously tricky in a small apartment surrounded by neighbors with nothing better to do than inquire or summon the authorities or leverage the HOA eject button.
That is not why I switched, but for a more common and loathsome reason that the new acupuncturist is two blocks from my home and practices in a community setting, offering more appointment flexibility and requisite cost savings. While historically the front line complaint of my mortal vessel has been Kidney Depletion related, or the grand trifecta of Yin organ collapse, the Liver presented herself with a particular beef.
Running feels like a potential outlet for anger, which at this point is so nonspecific that it doesn’t have a particular source or stimulus, and no reparations or reciprocity is needed. Just movement of the magma which I’m sad to say is the way my anger typically arrives at a party. My person does lightning bolt anger - on and off in a flash, leaving a vague scent of ozone and finished. Fine. Complete. I’m a bit more Vesuvial in my expression. The run in question the day following that acupuncture appointment was a long slog that felt ok, in that I ran continuously, and was also worrisome in that my biometric measuring ring was like… ummmm…. You truly might blow a gasket… you just ran for your life. Like not in a training zone. Like in a ‘running from lava’ zone.
This is many of us now, I think. I see my friends and fellows who experienced at least some adulthood before the major daily use of internet posting their Zone 5 workouts with pride. Zone 5 being 80-100% of your heart rate maximum, which is there in case of emergency or Olympic Gold.
I’ve still got it! We seem to say as we peel off the used athleisure to replace it with the slightly cozier home version and slump onto the couch.
I do not still got it.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Virtual Latte to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.