For a significant chapter of my life, running was my outlet of choice. Pre-dawn, feet making music against the pavement, I would settle into the monotony of a rhythm that swallowed me whole.
I felt both everything and nothing while I was running. Mind lost in thought, it was assumed my body would defy the odds. The more extreme the conditions, the better test of my merit.
Darkness. Coldness. Exhaustion. These were the running partners that challenged my soul.
Why is it so hard to admit the feelings that arise when we acknowledge that for many of us, things we had worked years to build – be it relationships, businesses, or, yes, lifestyles – effectively have been dismantled without a moment’s notice?
Where is the grieving? When do we get to talk about what we’ve lost?
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