thoughts from bistro

I woke up early on a Sunday morning. After snoozing my alarm twice. I got up as the sun declared its spot in the sky. I let it in my eyes. Sunlight in the morning. It's good. It wakes me up. 

I’ve decided I love the sun here. 

I then decided to make my coffee. The black liquid dripped, and tasted bitter and warm on my tongue. 

I’ve decided I love my coffee here. 

I tried to run.

Failed.

When you listen to your body it's nice. It respects you more. You respect it. 

But I also believe there is a fine line between pushing your body, and letting it rest. 

You don’t want to give in too much. Challenges are often good. They push you to go past the limits of the unknown. It's important to sometimes be on the brink of I can’t-and just do it-fall past it. And realize the fall is actually your saving grace. 

The worst thing that can happen is just standing up.

But today I did stop. I did not jump.

But not jumping was a challenge. It’s ok to rest. I could tell this was the right decision. 

I didn’t even have a running path in the first place.

Bosu Balls are a great workout challenge.

That’s it. 

I ate some lunch.

And then I had an urge to jump in the ocean. And the only way to fulfill an urge is to do it.

So I did it.

I dunked my head again and again. I watched the boys as they screamed at the waves rolling in. I watched the family on surfboards. I watched the flies land on my shoes. I watched the men talk with their beers. I watched the seagulls circle above me. And I dunked my head again and again.

The ice cub around my head.

So cold it heats you up on the inside.

I dunked my head again and again. 

Laughed under the waves. 

But then I got out.

My much too long hair slapped on my back and dripped down my legs, leaving my hair in spikes and sending my body in a shiver. 

The sand was not warm.

The sun was covered.

Warm up warm up!

I could not warm up.

I tried to read. Nope, my body was shivering. I hit my leg on a concrete bench as I turned the corner. I could feel it against my bones. I saw the pink scab of elementary school days stretch across my thigh. But I like scabs, and scars, and scrapes and bruises. It adds personality, it makes me feel full. 

I walked to the bus stop with my right leg feeling heavy. I saw it pull away. Just missed. So I waited til 4. I tried to stand, but sitting sounded better. This way my legs could squeeze into my sweatshirt, I just wanted the wet bathing suit off. 

I waited. I shivered. Told myself it would come soon.

And it did.

And I walked back, telling myself each step brought me closer.

And I turned the corner.

And I was happy.

I’ve decided I love it here.