Need To Breathe

 

“You exercise EVERYDAY?”, someone recently asked me.  And my answer, “Mostly, but not because I’m crazy or compulsive about it . . . in years past, perhaps.  But now, I do it because I have to. I do it because I can. I do it because to not do it would be to dishonor my body, heart, and mind.  I do it because it’s like a prayer to me. It feeds my soul and gives my days balance, and me, room to breathe."

Simply put,  I head outside (to run or walk or ride my bike) everyday because I need to inhale. I need to inspire and be inspired. I need to breathe. And breathe deeply. No shallow, mini ho-hum breaths but deep, gulping, filling-up-every-inch of my body breaths. Breaths that go past my alveoli deep in my lungs, all the way to the perimeter of every teeny, tiny cell in my body.

I love the notion of “inspire” meaning both "to take a breath" and "to motivate" and wondered what Webster might have say. The first definition, “to inhale”, was a no-brainer.  Another: “to stimulate energies, ideals, or reverence” started to speak my language. And yet a third: “to breathe life into”. Indeed, that is exactly where I find myself when I am outside and moving; I live these definitions. Breathing. Taking life in. Absorbing the present moment to my fullest capacity. Swallowing it whole. Owning it. Owning my life. My thoughts. My choices. My body. My perfections and imperfections – mine, all mine!

And giving thanks for this body’s abilities – to move, to run, to push me through this space and time. Thankful for my healthy lungs and heart, which work so beautifully together – perfect synchronicity to allow me each step, each heart beat. The cadence of my feet – left, right, left, right – their rhythm centers me. Energy out. Energy in.  Energy out. Energy in. (Much more than just physical!)

Being outside, with the solid Earth beneath me and the sky’s expanse above, is the very best place for me to lay my miles down and put everything in perspective: I am reminded of my smallness and my bigness.  I sense my power and my powerlessness. I balance my strengths and weaknesses. It is the active pause in my day that reminds me of who I am.  A child of God.

In the midst of those big, deep, gulping breaths, my expiration date recedes into the unknown future and my inspiration grows, knowing no bounds.  Three more definitions of “inspire” say this:

1. To affect, guide, or arouse by divine influence.
2. To fill with enlivening or exalting emotion.
3. To stimulate to action; motivate.


While I am out there huffing and puffing, pacing myself, counting my steps, affirming my good, the only expiration I know is that of my outgoing breath. Worries about my own mortality cannot linger here. Not when I’m this alive. Living fully in the moment. Taking no prisoners, requesting no mercy, save the kindnesses I need to extend to myself. Just pushing on and negating any bad thought I never wanted to believe anyway.  So ha!

Out there, I know I am whole, complete and perfect just as I am. Just as God made me. I thank God for my strong thighs, muscular calves, nimble feet. My new running shoes – like Christmas four times a year! Strong core –thank you, planks!! The clean, fresh air I get to take in. The safety of my community. The flowers along the way. The beauty all around.

You ask me why I exercise everyday and I’ll tell you: to embrace myself and my world. To move my body to show God my appreciation for this great gift. My health. My love for the life She has so generously given me. It’s not about the distance or the size of my rear or how many calories I’ve burned during my morning jaunt. It’s the sense of renewal, freedom, appreciation, and awe that awaits me, beckons me, and is mine for the taking. That carries me home.

Another day I’ve been given. My breathing - deep and hard and true - is my prayer. My thank-you to God.  I am using my body. Keeping it healthy. Celebrating it. Loving it still.

On a recent treasure hunt through a box of old *stuff*, I found a Nike ad I had torn out of a magazine 25 years ago that so inspired me back then.  I remember how it made me feel at the time: understood, seen, acknowledged. It hung in my college dorm room, followed me to my first job where it was pinned on a bulletin board, and eventually came to rest in a box that mostly represents a version of me from a lifetime ago. Yet when I read the ad again the other day, I realized it had no expiration date. Same feelings. Same affirmation. Like coming full circle, home to myself – inspired, yet again.