In the days leading up to my ex’s departure, we spent a lot of time walking. It was the only way we could get away from the kids and try to sort things out.
It all started two days before Christmas, when he replied “I don’t know” to my “can you just tell me that we’re going to be ok”.
We did not have a chance to really talk until the day after Christmas. You can just imagine the days leading up to then. Lots of tears. Lots of confusion. Uncertainty may as well have been wrapped up with a big red bow and put under the Christmas tree for me.
All of our discussions happened on walks. Serious, heavy discussions. Now I realize they were mostly one sided. Me doing most of the talking. Or yelling. While he was biding his time.
In the days, weeks and months after he left, it took everything I had to get out of bed.
And then the spring came. Along with spring came recreational soccer for my kids. And with that, the first game that their dad would go to and I would not, upon the request of my youngest. Four months into our new life and he was not able to handle that both of his parents could be at his game, separately. I don’t blame him. And was somewhat relieved. However, it was so painful to not be there.
And thus started my walking habit. I had so much anxiety that I just had to walk it off.
This is no regular walk. This is a walk that takes you up into the clouds. Somedays. On days when it is not cloudy, and we (I have two girlfriends who join me for a weekly morning walk and gab session) time it right, we see the most spectacular sun rises.
Starting my day with a sun rise has become somewhat of an addiction.
My newest addiction? Walking has turned into running. More on that in another post.