Finding Flow

Years ago, lots of years ago, my Dad gave me this great book called Finding Flow by Mihaly Csiksgentmihalyi (say that name once, correctly).  I took the words to heart eventually finding my own flow.  Over time, of course, if a steady state of flow isn't maintained life's consistent off ramps throw distractions into the smooth continuity.  I'm sure people around me have different opinions, but I (in bold face) felt that during my marathon training I upheld flow.  As expected, whether the outcome of the race was favorable or not, I knew that things would crumble a little.  For me, I need a sense of structure or I'd come undone (side note: sometime during the painful final miles of the marathon, I repeated this chorus envisioning a long thread from my tank trailing behind me, slowly, coming undone).  I filled the run-less days with swim and yoga sessions, both filling my soul with their own version of silence.  The force of September threw darts, poking more holes in my already fragile path, presenting work place shifts, home life adjustments and other unmentionable dynamics.  My recovery days blossomed into road runs — life after marathon — a welcome transition to running 'just because'.

Attempts to Find Flow

I picked up a new pair of shoes (good riddance Newtons) to rekindle my relationship with the road pre-dawn.  My time on the mat became more of a spiritual quest instead of a rigorous training obligation.  All these facets started to converge just before hubbs and I left for an anniversary getaway to Niagara Falls.  All the bullshit questions, concerns and stressors that started to come to a head were temporarily relieved.  Just go with the flow.  The Falls, quite an amazing site, minimized everything.  We're just one drop in the universe, pushed over the edge until we reunite into one smooth flow.  Still searching for it; in time, I'll be reunited.