In the midst of this move (because a move doesn’t just happen, you know… it is a process that takes place over a period of time – however long it takes, really), I have had hours upon hours to myself. I think that I am predisposed to handling solitude a lot better than most – I don’t mind being alone, and in a lot of ways, I thrive on it.
But what I’m finding is that while quiet is good, silence can be hard. A girl can drive herself crazy with the thoughts that she thinks in silence. The vacuum of nothingness attracts all manner of mental material – because, as a wise man recently told me, “nature abhors a vacuum.”
Granted, he was trying to encourage me that my singleness will not be forever (dear sweet Jesus, please and amen), but still. Same idea.
To fill up the hours and keep the silence at bay, thankfully, I have running.
In a small way, I think that running may be saving me during this move. I am running 5-6 days a week, and at least one of those days is 10+ miles. I’ve mentioned it before on this blog: what has come over me? I didn’t become a runner until last year, when I trained for my first major race – and that was with my beloved East Nasties, who I do not have here in Denver. I am stunned at my own commitment in their absence.
While running with the Nasties last year was just as much a social opportunity as it was a training regime, running alone is proving to be a discipline. I have to corral my thoughts – because while my body is incredibly strong these days, it’s my mind that needs a crack of the whip.
In 2009, running was theirs – something that I participated in, but I didn’t own. It didn’t belong to me. But this year, running is mine.
Then again, perhaps I’m just avoiding the silence.