When I step into the yoga studio, my mind wanders and breathing comes to a screeching halt. Mindfulness left unchecked, my focus isn’t on the current posture or my breath, but rather on competing forces taking me outside of the room. So when the instructor asked during a recent class “what do you need,” I used my time on the mat to compose a letter to Santa.
But as I made my way through the many lunges and Warrior II’s, I got stuck. Should my letter to the jolly old man with red cheeks and an effervescent glow, be funny or serious? A poem about running? Perhaps a plea for world peace? Health and wellness for friends and family? Or should it resemble a grown-up version of the letter I wrote to Santa as a five-year old?
Even repeats of my favorite pose (side plank) didn’t solve my dilemma. Would I go through class without as much as a rough draft to Santa?
It’s no secret I had a disappointing year. I missed several races due to an unhappy calf that continues to grumble. And I didn’t even come close to my first 50-miler. Truth be told, if I’m not running things are a bit off—my spirit, energy, and confidence wanes, and I prefer the comfort of my couch to time on the trails.
Then during final downward dog it happened—the equivalent of sugar plums dancing in my head—a vision of what I need, what I want most of all. My ask to Santa is different than any other year; though it can’t be bought online or found in any store. It won’t cost him a dime or even his elves’ time. My ask is quite simple and can be summed up in one word: Run.
That’s it; I want to run. When I’m running everything else flows. My world is right.
So Santa—as you’re making your way down my chimney and reaching into your red bag of treats, I hope you’ll pull out a little running magic so I can enter 2016 with a renewed sense of strength, health, and momentum to make it a great year. And if I may have just one more ask—please extend my Christmas wish to everyone else.
May all your miles be merry today and throughout 2016.