Rest Days

     Well, I can now do a mile in 12 minutes (barely, while sprinting across the finish line and sucking down air) but I can do it.  I'm working on getting my stride controlled to where it feels normal again.  I've gotten into this bad habit (not sure where it came from) of running up and down like a hopping deer instead of striding out like a gazelle (haha, an image of Tony Little just popped into my head with his permed pony tail and spandex shorts trying to sell his machine on infomercials).  I can feel myself tightening up and have to remind myself to let the tension go and just run.  When did this become such a MENTAL game??  It's running for crying out loud!!!  My 2 year old does it all the time without thinking.  I'm pretty sure that when he's running across the park (away from me, towards traffic) he's not thinking to himself, "elbows in, arms at a 90 degree angle, stride out, OUT, dangit...there I go again, I'm bouncing.  Bouncing like a deer.  Stride, Tony Little, STRIDE!!"  I guess Jesus knew what He was talking about by telling us to become like little children.  Unassuming, unencumbered and free to run without over thinking every little movement.
     This brings us to yesterday which was a REST DAY...ugh!!!  Come to find out, I don't do rest days very well.  For those of you that need an explanation, a rest day is where you don't do anything.  Nothing.  No working-out activity of any kind.  The purpose of rest day is...duh...REST!  Who saw that coming?  It is a recovery day.  A day to let your body recuperate from the stress it's been under with training it to do something it hasn't done in a very long time (if ever).  I find myself conflicted on these days for a number of reasons.  1. It's been said over and over and over by any sports coach, diet consultant or exercise guru to do SOME sort of activity every day.  2. I feel like if I don't do something every day, then all progress made thus far is just going to go out the window and I'll have to start from scratch.  However, neither of these are true! (And for my next trick, I'll explain how chocolate IS good for you!)
     When I was training in the past (be it volleyball, track, running, etc.) I would push myself to the limit and would grow to dread going to practice, putting on those running shoes and completing the workout.  There was nothing left in my tank.  I was running on fumes and definitely not performing up to my ability.  My mind would wander and the workout that was meant to empower me and leave me with more energy for my day would do exactly the opposite.  It would defeat me and leave me playing catch-up, wondering why I did this to myself.  Sounds fun, right?? 
     Enter this new concept of resting.  Many things need rest to reach their full potential.  A steak has to rest after it is cooked so it can recover from the stress of the oven.  A bottle of wine has to rest after it is opened, to recover from the stress of the chemical change taking place during fermenting.  Jesus tells Christians to rest so we can recover from the stress of being "in and not of the world".  If these resting periods don't happen, the process will still take place; the steak will still be edible, the wine will still be drinkable and the Christian will still be christian-ing, but it will be lacking something.  It will taste like something is missing, it will seem forced or premature, or burnt out and just going through the motions. 
     An amazing thing happened yesterday during "rest day".  I couldn't stop thinking about running!  I did many loads of laundry (washed, folded AND put away-who's impressed??), I played with my kids, I cleaned put away stuff in the bathroom (cause let's face it, even though I didn't run yesterday, I still have two kids to take care of) and the whole time, I was anticipating getting back out there on the running path.  I was looking forward to ALL of it!  I was looking forward to the wind blowing on my face.  Listening to my music, alone for the first time all day.  Catering solely to my own needs and demands of my body and pushing myself to meet those needs better than I met them the day before.  Something happens to me when I'm running.  Somewhere between "I can't believe I'm letting myself do this AGAIN" and "there's the finish line.  I wonder if people would stop and help if I flat passed out here in the park".  And it can only be described as freedom.  When I finally hit my gazelle-like stride that I've been searching for (thank you muscle memory, you've been hiding since high school track) and the huffing and puffing transitions into a pattern of energizing oxygen flowing through my blood stream, I forget that I'm running.  I forget that it's hard.  I forget that my arms aren't perfectly at 90 degrees, and I may still be bouncing just a bit too much but I'm free.  I'm a child again, streaking across the park, effortlessly, lost in whatever fantasy necessitates that type of speed.  My rest day has shown me what many other things in my life have already proven; Absence makes the heart grow fonder.