Highway run
Into the midnight sun
Wheels go round and round
You’re on my mind
Faithfully – Journey

I stand outside the building and look up at the windows. How many people are looking out down at me? It is a large building, bigger than anything we have back home. I am sure the man I am about to visit thinks of this as his office but right now, for me, this is a mountain that I have to climb.

I cross the parking lot and enter through the glass double doors, and walk over to the building directory. I love directories; it is just another form of self help. Who needs someone sitting at desk telling me that so and so is on the 5th floor or down the hall. I notice that the name I am looking for is located on the 9th floor and it would seem that they are doing very well for themselves; they are the only office on that floor.

There is a group of people waiting on the elevator so I opt for the stairs. I am early so I can take my time. The climb won’t be that bad, besides … if I can run a marathon – I can walk nine floors. Fuck it.

Half way up, I wonder if this was such a good idea and keep going. It is surprisingly quiet in the stairwell; a few people going down, but no one else going up. I get a few nods, a hello but no one looks me in the eye. They have their own problems I am sure.

I reach the 9th floor and pause for a moment before I open the door, not sure of what is on the other side. Luckily when I swing the door open, I am in a hallway. There is a large window at both ends, letting in a lot of sunlight. It was almost like opening a door to the light when you have been in the dark for a long time.

I walk down the hall and read the names on the doors. Dr. Qua … Dr. Cook … Dr. Reese … I stop. I turn to face the door with the gold lettering. I just kind of, stand there. I have that internal dialog going on. Should I stay, should I go? Who would know? How did I end up here? Is it really that bad? Could that bitch Oprah really be right? Fuck.

While I stand arguing with myself, the door opens and I have to step back to allow the person leaving room to move past me. I think I frightened her more than she frightened me. She started walking down the hall and then turned to see the door closing with me still on the outside. It was quiet so she did not have to raise her voice.

‘It’s ok.’ She said ‘You’re doing the right thing.’

I turned to look at her, and it must have been obvious from the look on my face that I was out of sorts, confused, lost.

She walked back toward me, cautious at first, then more confident. She was small so she got up on her toes and looked me in the eyes and without saying a word, hugged me.

It was like I melted and relaxed into her. A stranger who was doing something no one had done in a long, long time. I did not cling to her, I did not cry (even thought I wanted to) and I did not just stand there. I hugged her back and managed to whispered ‘Thank you’.

She gave me a knowing smile and said “Just remember, this is for you. No one else.” This woman … this vision … turned, walked down the hall and out of my life as she went around the corner. I would not see her again.

I swung around and looked at the gold lettering once again. Dr. Bruce Williams, Psychologist.

What.the.fuck.

I opened the door and stepped inside.

Run Fat Boy Run

I stand in my living room and look at the picture of me crossing the finish line at the Ottawa Marathon a short year ago. I stand there for a long time. Not because I like to look at myself, I really don't. But I stand there and wonder, how did I let this happen?

Only a year ago, I was in such good shape I could complete a marathon and now .... dear god, please don't go there. Even after the marathon, I continued to stay in shape with CrossFit. But now, nothing. No running, no CrossFit, no sit ups, nothing. Until today.

I take one last look at the photo, go upstairs, get my running gear on and head out for a 30 minute run.

Bring the pain.