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Move that body: 2.8-mile run

Nearly every day, I am thankful I found running. Truly. It has allowed me to be someone I always wanted to become but never allowed myself to be. It has taught me discipline and the ability to push my limits. It has introduced me to a community of people, many of whom I am blessed to call my friends.

Even during the most craptastic of runs, I am grateful. Because with every tight or painful or slow step, my mind focuses not on what is weighing me down emotionally but the physicality of my body. To be physically present is a gift.

A gift I was especially thankful for today.

Last night, I found out the reason my grandma had not picked up any of my six phone calls was because she was in the hospital with chest pains. I know she will be fine - she did not have a heart attack and it is expected that she will go home tomorrow - but my grandma is my person. She has been there when my family was in upheaval, through the deaths of both my parents. Always a rock when I feared I would fall apart.

I can't dare to think of life without her so to hear that she wasn't well ... well, it took a toll on me. I was overwhelmed and distant and full of fear. I tried to shake it off the worry as best I could but it wasn't until my feet hit the pavement, taking me somewhere new, that I was able to escape my thoughts. For 33 minutes, it was me, my feet, the stroller, the dog and the rain.

And for that, I am glad.