Hi there 🙂 Please excuse the typos (as always), I’m typing this on my phone notepad (as usual) which does not have autocorrect.
Apparently I was pretttty tired yesterday because I fell asleep on the couch directly after our dinner at 6 pm (thanks for the yummy stirfry, and for cleaning it up, and especially for setting the coffee maker, hubby). Maybe it was the adrenaline from yesterday’s work presentation that drained me. Hoping it’s that and not my body fighting infection or something.
I woke up just before 2 am. I poured my piping hot bold roast and settled back on the couch, listened to a 14 minute guided meditation. (yep, I’m on that meditation train. #basic).
This particular meditation asked you to pick your emotion/frequency you want to evoke for the rest of your day, based off a memory.
The memory I chose was from this past November. Of being alone in my Las Vegas hotel room the Friday before the Rock N’ Roll Marathon, before my sister arrived. The view out of the window-wall of the bustling nightlife down below and the neon pink ferris wheel in the distance. Looking at my purple singlet and race outfit laid out, the ambiance of the modern, red Bally’s room itself. Playing solitaire with the deck of cards I bought in the lobby, sitting criss cross applesauce in my jeans on the bed. Nervous, excited anticipation. I felt very alive.
Then at some point in my meditation I flashed to a memory of running in the pitch black, early morning on the street outside our hotel room in Jerusalem, from the last time I was in Israel, leading a trip with my husband. The hotel was on a hill and really did have a nice view of the city out of the window-wall.
The students were up giggling and being loud and obnoxious in the hall all night, even after my Cruella DeVille tirade in my pajamas. I was superrrr affectionately annoyed at them all, and barely slept that night despite the 14 hour day ahead. Finally I just changed into my running clothes and headed for the elevator, earphones in. The elevator doors opened, and one of the young Israeli soldiers on our trip going out for a smoke was surprised to see me enter.
I only sprinted maybe .5-.75 miles down the street before turning around and running back. I was exhausted, but sprinting away really helped get my anger out. Fight or flight, I chose flight lol. At the furthest point from the hotel I managed to smile at the insanity of the entire situation. Running angry down a random street in Jerusalem basically in the middle of the night, away from the 40 “children” who had taken to referring to me and hubs as “mom and dad”. lol.
It was not the first time I had ran in Jerusalem. There was earlier that day, when a student ate bad Shwarma and had to beeline it to the bathroom (poor thing, but also lol). We were just outside the old city walls and luckily I had been there before and knew where to go.
Or there was that other time on a prior trip, running on a Friday afternoon before Shabbat, near the Lion hotel, I want to say? Close to the main bus station. I felt a little self-aware, running in shorts with so many orthadox men around, but what’s beautiful about Jerusalem is that it’s a melting pot.
Or running up the giant stairs in mystical Tsevat on a lunch hour to get to the grocery store to buy sweets for an Oneg (little party after Shabbat Dinner on Friday).
Or another time, a sunrise run on the flat streets of Tiberias, thd beautiful Sea of Galilee a surreal backdrop. There was an old lady swimming in the Kinneret, and I thought to myself that she must have life figured out. If I ever go back to Tiberias, I’m 100% swimming in the Galilee.
The common thread throughout these random memories? Running. Travel. Adventure. Fun Love.