Perseverance

 

Pausing in the middle of a jog around Bass Lake,
greeting swans and Canadian geese.

Over the past 6 months, I have done something I never thought I really could: I went from the PE-resenter and sweat-despiser I had always felt to gradually increasing my exercise regimen to the point of ensuring at least 90 min of intense movement per day, and over the past 2 months, I have been jogging on average 4 times a week. In addition to those runs, of course I walked regularly (the program Une Fille qui Court recommended 10 to 12 thousand steps a day), I did muscular training (again, I always hated lifting weights), yoga stretches most nights (sometimes under the beautiful moon !) and of course a few minutes in my cold pool to boost my immune system. Furthermore, having a house means also enjoying countless opportunities to move my body, by sweeping dead leaves and watering plants. I have been mindful with regular sleep, whole food or single ingredient diet, and meditation whenever possivle.

I fell twice in less than a week right after I started running in trails a few months ago. I overcame my low motivation and heavy limb sensation at the beginning of most runs, braved a 40-Celsius weather on more than one occasion, tried different backpacks and sampled different snacks. I became hyperaware of the signals my tired or strained body was trying to send me: back tension, soreness of the kneecaps, shoulder inflamed fatigue. Al though I value theoretical principles and felt curious about chi running, I stayed connected to my experience and above all, honored my deeply intuitive nature about the how, what or when (to eat, to move, to rest).

At some point, on the verge of engaging in a somewhat delayed, yet serious packing process, I asked a question to my buddy Caro regarding the hydration vest. As a response, I get a picture of a frightening bruise in her thigh. About a week before, she had sutured a friend who had butchered her knee after falling on a really sharp rock during a hike, and she was walking before falling, not running ! I was amazed by my friend's first aid skills and was honestly relieved that the Red Cross would be part of our trip.

Caroline's wound didn't seem as bad. It was swollen and bruised, but no major laceration. I told her to take the time before the departure to simply rest. The same night, after a very busy day for me, at the conclusion of which I had been frustratingly running in circles to find a charger for my car, at 12%, it was not enough to make it home (welcome to the ''range anxiety'', probably very familiar to any electric car owner), she wanted to talk to me. Ivideo called her at once. She said she had talked to her doctor and... to which I immediately interjected, ''Non...''. 

She didn't need to say more. I knew. I suddenly felt disoriented. She had done the crying earlier, so she was fully warmed up and understanding when I did mine. Of course, I, too, completely understood. Why have I not thought about the risk of thrombo-embolism that is amplified during a long flight ? I wanted her to be ok. And on top of that, I felt guilty that I got to go, and not her, since she was the one who had dragged me into this adventure ! The irony.

 A Girl who Runs. A Girl who Falls. A Girl who... Pauses.

She was so wise about all this, feeling grateful about the journey leading up to the trip, all the preparatory events, the training, the connections built. I cried even more as I listened, inspired by such maturity. We were supposed to take a taxi to the airport together. I was looking forward to us catching up during the trip (probably not the flight, since I usually need to sleep in those transatlantic night flights). But in the shuttle bringing us to our trail on any given day. As we strolled around town, or admiring the French landscape. During our Happy Hour evenings. And at the spa.

Even though I am notorious for my perseverance, this blog is about my friend. She had some physical pain during the past few months. Despite this, she didn't sit around. She moved. If there is an athlete among us, it is definitely her !

I am grateful for her forging so many paths like a big sister (even though she is older than me by only a few weeks !). Her confidence, groundedness and wisdom will follow me when I discover the Pyrenees with the rest of the group, and whose participants I am looking forward to meeting. We will both expand in our own way at the same time. Me in that kind of experience I never thought I would commit to, and her, as she goes inwards, slows down and heals her whole body. We will remain connected. Friendhips transcends physical distance and boundaries. And lie she said ''ce n'est que partie remise !'' (until next time, or literally, it is only a postponement).

She reminds me that I have something to be extra grateful for, and it is each step that I am able to take freely as I tickle the earth beneath my steady pace. Inevitably, as humans, our expressed intuition and open-mindedness dancing with life circumstances set the pace and lead us to attain a sense of peace. Life itself is a risk, so walking or running are no different. Persevering involves taking the risk of being disappointed. As we share this sense of grief for what won't be (this year), we also continue to share dreams, hopes and a ton of good memories already (high school, community college, Montreal, London !), and our friendship can only grow stronger. Koro, ma Koro, know that I am deeply proud of you and of being your friend. You are the epitome of perseverance. Merci ma belle et si épatante amie, thank you my amazing, beautiful friend. 

My beautiful, inspiring and wise friend Caroline Prud'Homme 💗