Coach

I stand in front of a sink and wash wash dishes, while I think think think about running, having writ writ written any number of words in the morning. That’s my ritual. An hour or two of writing in the morning before work and then running in the afternoon once the shackles are loose. I spend most of each six-hour shift deciding where I’m going to run, how far, how fast, and in what intervals. Such is the life.

Most days, I have to coax myself to run. I’ve planned on running in the morning for the better part of three months now, going on four. Ask Lena and she probably can’t even tell you how many times I’ve promised her and myself I was going to run before work.

Nope.

Bed has been too comfy lately. Even if we’re sleeping on a decade-old mattress, I still can’t bring myself to get out of bed…to run. Writing is a different story. Writing can happen anywhere. All I need is a writing instrument. I don’t have to go outside. I don’t have to put any clothes on. I can just sit at my dining room table and watch the shafts of sunlight trace the old, hardwood floors.

What’s amazing is that I get the same free feeling when I write as I do when I run. When I run, my heart and my feet give me freedom. Writing frees my mind.

While both writing and running are compulsive behaviors of mine, there’s a lot of internal coaching that happens to do either, regardless of the hour. As soon as I set my sights on either of these activities, my mind immediately races, trying to find a focal point. It doesn’t always right off the bat. Most of the time when I set foot out my door, or open a blank page, I have no idea what I’m doing. I make it up as I go along. But, that can be daunting. Hence, the coaching.

What I try to do, like I did today, for a seven-mile run in the Rocky River Reservation, is, once I’ve centered on what I want to do, I walk myself through what it takes to complete said task. A lot of times that means breaking down a run or a chapter into pieces and focusing on what’s clear to me. Sometimes, it’s a distance. Sometimes, it’s dialogue. Both are treated with the same attitude: you can only do what you can, with what you’ve got, while you’ve got it.