I have had a hard time meeting people and making friends since I moved here six–six!!!!–years ago. Making friends is HARD–especially in a land of townies where I feel like an outsider 85% of the time.
Then something magical happened. A girl in my spinning class invited me to join a running group that was forming.
The first run was terrifying–I barely slept the night before. Why? I was worried I would be too slow, wearing the wrong thing, being late, etc. I never run with a group, much less in the dark for “about 5 miles at a pace of a little over 9”. Do able, but for me that’s a hella fast pace to maintain for that long.
God bless the other slowpokes who showed up to keep me company in the back at our lowly 9:30 pace.
When it was over, I felt better than I have in a long time. More alive. Excited to hit the road again, both on my own and with the group. Thrilled to have something to look forward to on Tuesday mornings (and the occasional weekend long run.) Ecstatic to be able to talk about running with people who get it.
On the runs since, the conversations are becoming more familiar and easy, weaving from talking to quiet running side by side. Even on the darkest morning, the dark place feels very far away.