I should be running

Every day I've been getting outside and attempting to run. (The hard part is changing into my running clothes and putting on my running shoes. Once I do that, there's no talking myself out of it). Most days I don't actually do much running. I hold my dad's watch in my hand but I don't use it because right now isn't about how far I go or how fast I go or whether I'm getting more running in than walking. Right now is about listening to my body and connecting with my grief. I take a deep breath and listen. I block out everything but the wind singing in my ears and let that carry me away. And walking feels really good. I'm silencing all thoughts that I should be running right now or I should just push myself when what my body is really saying is to ease into this. And then all of a sudden, my body actually feels a physical eagerness to begin to run. So I run. And I stop when I want to and start again when I want to. Again and again. And when I start tripping over my pride when a biker or a car comes into view, I have to remind myself what this time is about. I have to remind myself, this isn't about losing weight or getting back into shape. Those will be added benefits. There will come a time to push myself, but not today. Today is about listening to my body, connecting with my dad, breathing and moving through my grief, and coming back to life.
I walk down a long stretch of road and pass a cemetery on my left. But I barely notice it because my eyes are feasting on the sun setting over the lake.