For 30 minutes each day, I am the only person in the world. It is peaceful. It is undisturbed. It is sacred.
For 30 minutes each day, I am left completely alone: Nobody intrudes. It is the one time I carve out of the day to be completely and utterly selfish. It is time for me. Neither my husband nor my children (who are asleep) intrude. It is a time to rehash my day. Time to work through any kind of problem I may be having. Time to unplug my brain and just be.
At the end, I’m breathless but my spirit is full. I’m tired, yet more awake than I was before.
And its funny, because in high school the one thing I hated most was running. I am not a runner. And that’s putting it lightly. I always despised it. Dreaded it. Reviled it. Recoiled from it.
And yet here I am: 31 years old and I look forward to hopping on our elliptical trainer every night. (And admitting that I’m 31. What’s wrong with me?)
I can’t wait.