the confession is actually two fold:
i had every good intention of running in kamapla, but it didn’t happen. it should have happened for my mental health, but, it didn’t. which brings us to confession two:
running my be my new drug.
this afternoon i ran again in the bush of kotido at dusk, and learned (again) that my body has a lot to say about the events that surround her life. my brain did not want to be out for a run, my brain wanted to be fussing over my monetary reports for mcc and daydreaming of an upcoming trip.
but my body? she needed to run. seriously.
i found myself moving at an exceptionally quick pace, especially for having not run in over a week (maybe about 1.5 weeks?) and unable to tell my body to slow down. i changed my music. i turned my music off. i slammed on my brakes and tried to walk, but my body really just wanted and needed to run at the pace that my body wanted to go. not the pace my brain thought i was capable of, but a fast almost all-out 3km run.
i bargained with myself that if i ran through the ekisil billboard (the billboard saying ‘we want peace’ in ngakarimajong) that i could walk until the sorghum fields and then turn around and walk back to the sign to then continue running until the end of the wfp road then walk home.
body had none of that. i took another flat out run from the fields, back between the posts of the billboard and to the turn on the wfp road. i knew that i’d pushed almost too far at this point when things were beginning to get a bit hazy around the corners of my eyes.
but, i think, my time spent running has become my time of
processing–my dreams are all bad these days (and the fact that i’m remembering them at all is alarming as i don’t tend to) i’m dealing with some minor road-trauma from traveling back to kotido (nothing actually happened, just 2 near misses that in the moment didn’t phase me at all, worrying me, only to surface today of all days.) and i’m also dealing with the major transition time of moving back to the united states in about 4 weeks. so, basically, i’m kind of an emotional wreck to say the least. running has clearly become my body’s way of dealing with all of this and prefers to push to her limits of ability. (the depths of which simultaneously surprise and scare me a little.)
all that to say: i ran today. and i ran hard. i was out for about 45 minutes and ran a lot of those minutes at a speed that i didn’t think was possible out of these legs for that long. i pushed to the point where i thought i’d be physically ill, or maybe black out. neither of those things happened as i am at least somewhat a rational human being still.
but, keep an eye on me, eh?