We had a beautiful day flying kites and building sand castles for Savannah’s birthday. With each new uplift of the kite, I felt a surge of gratitude and excitement.

In one month’s time, this is how we’ll be spending the majority of our days. Playing together as a family without the major stresses I feel overwhelmed with at the present moment.

My body and soul are telling me how right this decision to become nomads again is.

But, there is one thing bothering me. My dresses are getting tighter, I’m feeling sluggish, and weak. I know when you travel, you need to have a body that is firm and strong. Right now, I’d barely make a 2km amble stroll.

I haven’t exercised in months. I’ve had a lot of excuses: surgery, health complications, too busy, too lazy.

The latest has been, “I’ll just wait until we are on the road, because then I’ll be waking up near the beach and I’ll be motivated to get up early and start the day with a run. Right now, it’s just too hard. I  have to drive to the beach, but first I need to find the time to do it. With school, and cleaning, cooking, and work there is just no time to take care of my body.”

I got home from our beautiful day with Savannah. I was feeling really antsy and slightly depressed. I’m feeling it a lot lately, because I am the I-am-so-ready-to-leave stage, but I’ve got to wait a month, and there is still a few things we have to do before we go.

I thought about going for a run, and my mind gave me the excuse from above. I went to go for the gin bottle instead. It was a balmy winter’s evening and I thought it would suit perfectly.

“Hold up a minute lady. Why do you have to wait for a month before you wake up on the beach to start honouring your body. Not far outside the door is the serenity of the waterfront.”

Before I knew it I was wearing my work out gear and lacing up my joggers.

“I’m going for a run. I will probably be back in 10 minutes, but I’m going because my body needs it.”

I ran around the corner, got half way across the oval (make that a minute so far),  and started hurting all over. “What am I doing? I’m not going to make it to the other side of the oval let alone the waterfront. This is pathetic. I am pathetic.”

All I felt was wobble and soft goeyness.

“I’m so sorry body. I’m sorry I got into this state. Please forgive me. Thank you for loving me anyway. I love you.”

I started my mantra (I’ve been learning a new approach to life via the Ho’oponopono philosophy. My run tonight taught me its working)

“I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I love you. Thank you.”

I made it to the other side of the oval. All I had to do was get to the end of the street and then I’d be at the waterfront. But, I was hurting.

I was grateful to make the main road where the traffic forced me to stop and wait for a gap. I got my breath. I was now about 3 minutes into the run, and decided I’d go just a little bit more and return home with my head bowed. Soft soft soft.

I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I love you. Thank you.

One foot in front of the other. I started to set milestones, just to the next tree. I got in the rhythm and became lost in my surroundings.

Pelicans waddled down to the water’s edge, a fisherman cast once again for his meal. The air was still and there was barely anyone around.

Why had I been making excuses for so long? Three minutes from my house and here was the nature’s inspiration I needed to run.

Next tree, I’ll stop.

“No, just get to the end of the waterfront. You can do it.”

Before I left, Craig told me I didn’t need to run the entire waterfront as it’s pretty long. “Just do what you can” He knew how soft I was.

I amazed myself when I arrived. I did it. I pushed past the initial pain barrier and got to a place of ease and rhythm. Imagine if I never tested myself and quit at the first hurdle.

I felt fantastic. The angst was gone, the head was clearer. And then I felt it.

The strength, The glowing white flame of light deep within me. I still felt the wobble and the weakness, but it was now on the periphery.

The hardness was waking up again. My body was saying thank you to me. “Thank you for honouring your body again. Thank you for making it work, for letting the light and the strength dominate.”

The flame grew bigger and stronger and I kept running.

I was hurting, but it was strong hurting. I arrived home sweaty and sore, but feeling in control and worshipping.

I love you. Thank you.

“I made it to the end of the waterfront Craig. I can’t believe I just ran for 30 mins. It feels so good to feel your body again.”

When my mind tells me the excuse tomorrow and the next as to why I can’t devote time to my body, I am going to remember the light and the feeling of healthy hardness. I’m going to lace up those shoes and run through my mantra.

I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I love you. Thank you.

And let the magic do it’s work.

P. S By 8pm that night I was so exhausted, I put myself to bed. How GREAT is it to honour your body?