Tuesday, 4m treadmill run in Christchurch, New Zealand; Wednesday, 7m treadmill run in Christchurch; Thursday, 4m treadmill run in Christchurch; Friday, rest; Saturday, rest; Sunday, 16m run in Dunedin
Treadmill runs are treadmill runs no matter where you are, but I felt a greater sense of accomplishment than normal after a run that came on the heels of 24-hours of travel. I’ve struggled this week. I don’t say this or put it online lightly. I am honored and grateful to have a job where I am constantly challenged and supported. I am pushed to find solutions, make connections and go the extra mile. I believe in the product and people behind it. I count myself among the lucky ones who wake up each morning to responsibilities they can’t wait to tackle.
But, I miss my life in DC. I miss my friends. I miss having a routine. I miss my place.
Today, as I ran the hills of Dunedin I was overwhelmed by the beauty that was before me, and the amount of trust our company’s representatives put in me. As I took in the breathtaking site of the hillsides covered with bright rooftops contrasted by the rippling blue waters of the bay, I thought about the conversations I’ve had with men who have worked with my dad for as many as 10 years and as few as 1. They’ve shared parts of their pasts, present circumstances and future aspirations with me. They are eager to tell me about the regional economy and as it relates to the dairy industry. They extend their relationships with dairy professionals so I can see local farming practices first-hand. They have invited me as guests into their homes. I cherish these conversations and experiences although my thoughts have not always mirrored that sentiment.
Around mile 10 today, on a killer hill, I made a choice. I will stop apologizing for traveling. I will stop throwing myself a pity party when I pack my suitcase. I will stop traveling thousands of miles to check my email. I will embrace the chance to be face-to-face with people I will see once or twice a year, but who are out in barns, paddocks and community centers telling the waterbed story everyday.
What does this have to do with running? Not much, you’re right, but it did get me through 6 ugly miles, and put me on the right track for the rest of the year. I can still love my life in DC, but find a similar appreciation for the opportunity to meet and spend time with so many genuinely great people worldwide who are writing the next chapter of the waterbeds for cows story. Luckily, I get to be a character in it.
