Watching it, I was reminded of a dream I had as a teenager.
I came to a clearing with a pond. The girl was standing there at the edge of it and staring at the opposite side, her back to me. I expected her to turn around when she heard me coming, but she didn’t move, not even when I stopped right next to her. After a moment, I reached out and took her hand. She still didn’t move. Her eyes were fixed forward. She had no idea I was there.
The next day I told my family about the dream around the breakfast table, before catching the bus off to school. My mom smiled, “You know who she was, right?” I smiled back, feeling wise. “She’s me!”
“Are we out of the woods? Are we out of the woods? Are we out of the woods?”
Taylor sang on repeat in my head as I ran down the dirt road yesterday, California oaks dancing in the breeze, early morning sunlight glinting off green hills. There was nobody else around. It was just me. “Are we in the clear yet?” It felt good to be there, part of nature’s dance, moving my body and doing this running thing that brings me closer to who I want to be.
With a few 5Ks under my belt, I’m currently training for my first Half Marathon and dreaming of going even bigger. Developing into a better version of me, one step at a time. “Are we in the clear yet?” Running through the canyon, thinking back to the dream I had some fifteen years ago, a sob grabbed my chest as I was hit by the realization that I’m that girl now. The runner.
I didn’t find her.
I became her.
(“In the clear yet, good.”)
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(This blog post was published with permission by the author.)
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