joy to to the run

My trail-running shoes, up on a shelf, not sure when I’ll use them again.

Every fall we set our clocks back, and every year I track the date on the calendar with impending dread. As the end of Daylight Savings gets closer and closer, it feels like physical walls are closing in on me. Sure, we get one night with an extra hour of sleep, but then we get weeks and weeks of darkness at 5 p.m. (Or 4:30 p.m. here in Colorado when the sun goes behind the mountains.)

While winter takes me hostage, I usually combat the short, dark days by running every morning. Even as it gets colder and it takes forever for the sun to come up, I love seeing my breath in the air and working up a sweat before the rest of my day begins. But several weeks ago I punched my ticket for the injury train, and it looks like it’s a one-way trip with no return yet scheduled.

I had an MRI done on my back, and the doctor was able to spot some issues with my lower vertebrae. “You were probably born with this,” he said, pointing to a set of misshapen bones. He was intrigued. I was despondent. After a lot of questions, he determined that while there is an expiration date on my running days, it is not today. But as to why my left hip is so angry? He had no idea.

I begin physical therapy in a few days, and I’m hopeful that strengthening my hips, glutes, and lower back will cover a multitude of issues—including whatever is going on with me. But it will take weeks. And as the the sun goes down earlier and earlier each evening, I am getting really good at synchronizing sitting on the couch with every sunset.

Left to my own decives, I would just wait out this setback by decreasing movement and increasing time spent on Hulu. (Old episodes of The Mindy Project won’t watch themselves, you know!) Add the fact that the holiday season is here, and I would be holding the remote in one hand and sugar cookies in the other. Which is fine in moderation, but I don’t moderate very well when I can’t run.

joy to the run

Enter Joy to the Run. I realized I had a choice: Sign up for Joy to the Run and arrive at January’s front door in a better place than I am now, or keep doing what I’m doing. (Which is a whole lot of nothing.) I can’t run, but I can walk and hike short distances, I can stretch, I can do yoga, I can do weights and strength. (A whole lot of everything else.) And it’s just what my brain needs to clear the fog, combat the Eeyore vibe taking over my life, and make December feel lighter and brighter.

Did I mention it’s also free? How could I not join!

If you’re in a similar place and thought you would just sit this one out, come join me!