Dear H.F.,
Today my life is different than it was yesterday. Yesterday we talked about choice and we spoke of it in two contexts. First, you showed me your muscle-y legs and told me you were running. You said that it had been a mental block for you for years and now you were running every other day and you liked it. I can't tell you how strong you looked yesterday, old friend. But it wasn't when you were showing off your defined calves. It was when you were making pancakes and talking about your garden. You stood there with your chunky necklace and your beautiful hair and your happy body and you seemed present. Present and alive and choice-filled. And then you stood in the bathroom by the sink while I swooshed around in the bathtub and we talked about a different kind of choice. We talked about choosing to commit and to work through the hard things and to love. Love is not random; it is chosen by us. Even more than running, this is our mental block. And we are pulling out our sledgehammers. That conversation changed me; I made a choice.
Jessica, today I ran for 2.3 miles. I didn't walk and I didn't stop.
Thank you,
T.S.
That just made me cry.
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