I run to burn

I can run for 30 minutes.
That is a huge accomplishment for this petite woman.
Because this petite woman has worked hard a resisting the run, always doubting myself and what I am capable of physically. Clumsy and unsure, never being able to embrace the athletic inclinations of my zodiac for fear I would fail. Or that I would look ridiculous.
Genetics coupled with my own fear have helped me to build up a wall around myself.
The layers are thick with varying colors of emotions and memories.
And I am tired of carrying them around.
They are sooooooooo heavy. Laden with unsung woe.
So I run. On the elliptical.
Today, as I was striding toward my peak, it occurred to me that I was loving it.
Every beautiful, painful second. It is not about how many calories I can burn, or how far I can propel myself on a stop watch.
It is about how much I can let go of in 30 minutes. The day's worries and stresses I accumulate.
The feelings of not being enough of something, too much of something and less than what I want to be and who I take myself to be. The fear of how I look running down my dream. I no longer give a flying fuck.
I let go of the fear and make room for the confidence that inevitably sets in when I hit my mark, walk out the doors in to the cool air of evening. The air hits my sweaty skin and the sensation reminds me of what I have accomplished in a short time. The wind gently tousles my hair. I close my eyes and drink in the moment.
This. This feeling- this moment- exactly- I run for that.
I run to burn of the layers that keep me prisoner to my own fear about who I am and where I want to go.
And I don't run from the past, or the promise of the future.
I run for the present moment, when my heart is beating wildly, breath staggering from my chest, the beat of the music in my ear- this moment where I am aware of how alive I am.
Deliciously, gorgeously alive.
And I am grateful to be in this body, living this exact life, creating these perfect moments strung together.