Running in the dark...and cake

Last night I went running. I hadn't done this in a while, with the holidays approaching and all the cookie baking and tasting. These are reasons that I should very well go running, but it’s cold and sometimes the couch inhabited by my sleeping cats and puppy chasing his tail by my feet are just too irresistible to leave.
But after eating half of my dad's leftover birthday cake from Costco, yes Costco...I decided that I needed to stop being so lazy and do something before I lapsed into a sugar coma.
I bade adieu to my cats and puppy and entered the streets of Irvine. Brave huh?
It was 5:50 and dark outside. No trace of the sun.
Of course, the first steps were awful and I recounted everything I ate that day ...which wasn't that hard since all I ate was cake.
But after about ten minutes, I revisited that rhythm that I had loved so much and hadn't experienced in such a long time. I also had a little motivation from thinking of terrifying scenarios of being followed or chased...so that kept me moving.
The cold air hit my face and I could feel it rush into my lungs...I can't run with my mouth closed, it's really hard...and began to let memories and a whole ordeal of "Where was I at this time last year?" and "I remember.." seep into my head. I like to do this.
Almost eight months ago, I lived in Pasadena, and I would run around the Rose Bowl after work. The run consisted of the parking lots and golf course that surrounded the stadium. It's about three and a half miles, always busy with dog walkers, running groups and hard core bicyclists. I came to dislike the bicyclists. I felt "on your left" wasn't sufficient enough a warning.
So I would run at night, and feel this same cold air rush into my lungs and hit my face. I ran alone and would get lost in my thoughts and push out whatever was making me feel awful that day. With every step, I purged myself of a bad day from work, questions to the self of, “you got your degree in writing?”, or as usual with any girl telling of a memory, a relationship that didn't work out so well.
And when I finished, I felt relieved, exhausted and extremely strong. I was "Independent Jackie". I finished a long run, and then I would go to the grocery store, pick up dinner and return home to my cat. At the time, I only had one cat. This may sound very "spinster-lady" like, but looking back, these were moments that proved that I could do it. I had been in a relationship where I was so dependent on the other person that I didn't even want to go to the grocery store by myself. But, there I was, living by myself (I had the cat) but anyways, I was capable. In being thrust into a situation where I had to be on my own, I learned that although frightening at first, it was completely doable. I managed my own life, because there was no one else to ask “Should I do this?” or “What do you think?” It was liberating. It felt like those runs around the Rose Bowl.
And now, I have someone in my life of whom I have grown dependent upon, but not in the same manner. In this dependency, I find comfort and a sense of calm…even when there’s more laundry to do and a spoon to clean that was left in the sink covered with peanut butter…just sayin’.
Yet, I can find that warmed sense of security because I braved that sense of cold before. So when that comfort becomes complacency, I can put my running shoes on and head outside into the cold to whip that perspective back into my freezing face. Then I can return home where it’s warm, renewed…and watch the puppy chase his tail all over again…he really thinks he’s going to catch it...(sigh)silly puppy.