Heaven on earth? For me, pretty close to it.
JP and I went for a run this morning. I parked at the Sewanee football field and he was gracious enough to run the first 1.5 miles with me. I turned around at that point because my plan was to run three miles.
We ran, together, down University Avenue, past a Saturday morning farmers' market, and onto the Mountain Goat Trail. When I turned around to head back home, he fist bumped me and off he went.
I plodded back to the football field, running 30 seconds or so per mile slower than normal. My right hamstring has been hurting when I run ever since the softball tournament a couple of weekends ago. When I start a run, it hurts a lot, to the point that I limp noticeably. As I warm up, it feels a little better. Still, it feels like I don't have any strength in my right leg so it's hard to push off with my right foot when I run. That, I think, slows me down considerably.
I'm torn - pun intended - between shutting it down for a couple of weeks or trying to run through it. I think I'll just keep running lower mileage and see if the hamstring get better on its own.
When I finished my run today, I sat in an Adirondack chair under a tree across the from the football field and waited for JP. It was a beautiful morning on Monteagle Mountain. Mid-August with the temperature in the high '60's. Gorgeous. Simply gorgeous.
When "Just Breathe" played on my ever-expanding Spotify playlist - The Haunting - I smiled sadly, as I thought my late fraternity brother, Steve Bettis. He died in the early days of the Covid-19 pandemic after being exposed to it, most likely, on a flight from Park City, UT, to Chattanooga. He was a larger than life figure with a personality to match. Always, always enthusiastic. Loud, funny, strong as an ox, caring, competitive, emotional, and driven.
Steve was a graduate of the Baylor School in Chattanooga and, in later years, an important booster and trustee. At the memorial service - which was packed - in the chapel at Baylor, they played "Just Breathe," so it always reminds me of Steve when I hear it. That's good, I think. It's good to be reminded of Steve on occasion and to think about how the world isn't quite as fun of a place with him not in it.
I worry, sometimes, because JP is so driven and focused. While we sat outside at Stirling's Coffee House after our run this morning, I talked to him about the importance of enjoying life while it's happening. I want him to appreciate the little things and not to be so hell bent on succeeding, on winning, academically and athletically, that he can't find a stolen moment to admire a beautiful sunset or to appreciate being 16 and alive in this fascinating, sometimes confounding world.
He's wound pretty tightly, I think. I want him to know it's okay to take his foot off the gas occasionally and just be still. And see. And listen.
Just breathe.
That's what I want him to do. Be still and just breathe.
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