Season’s Change

I ran yesterday for the first time in 6 weeks.  Six whole weeks.  It was the first running hiatus I have ever taken that was not caused by an injury.  One of my life motto’s has been, there is always time for a run. 

And there was–then.

Turns out, life happens and well, life happened. 

For the past six weeks, instead of waking early and pulling on my running clothes and shoes, I stole away to my office to work.  I sat at my desk every morning editing picture after picture while out of the corner of my eye I noticed how the light overtook the darkness and watched as long shadows disappeared with the awakening of the sun.  The end of my solitude was sounded, by the voices of bed head little ones pulling me from my office with appeals for breakfast.  It was a different way to start my day–so different than the way I’ve started my day for more of my years than not. 

I missed running, I did.  It wasn’t the kind of missing that I experienced during an injury, though.  When I’ve been injured, not running was such an internal struggle–which, in turn, created a struggle for those who had to put up with my neurotic self.  The way I missed running this time was different.  It was the kind of missing that came with the understanding that there is a time for everything and the time to run will come again. 

My new motto has become, there is a season for everything.

Sometime, during the last few weeks a friend text me this: how do you do everything with THREE kids? One {child} makes me never know anything.
My response was quick:  I don’t do everything. . . if there is one ball in the air, there are likely four just laying on the ground. 

The last few weeks taught me the lesson–you can’t do it all.  (Or, at least I can’t.)  Not everything can have 100%.  There are only so many hours, days, and weeks and some things had to take a backseat–like running.  Like Running Chatter.  Like, well, a lot of things.

I think this is just life.  We make choices along the way about how we will spend our time.  About how our hours will look.  In the end, I don’t think there is a right or wrong nor do I think there is a one size fits all plan.  I think we all just kind of figure it out as we go along and adjust as needed.  (Or, maybe that’s just me?)

I realize as I write this that my thoughts are a bit jumbled and maybe they don’t make sense to anyone but me.  Maybe my blogging muscles are as tight and in need an adjustment period as my very sore legs.  Whatever the case, I’m trying to find my way back here, because I love it here.  And those of you that still find your way here, despite my absence?  Well, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. 

Somehow, August turned to September and I can’t even figure out where the days went.  I find myself clawing uselessly back to August wanting to hold on just a little bit longer. 

I never even wrote about the week we spend on my Dads boat. . .

Or how we nearly traumatized Charlie for life by allowing him to ride the Magnum as his very first roller coaster.

(No, I just couldn’t take pictures of that–the terrified look on his face made for evidence worthy of children’s services.)  He recovered, though, and braved a more tame roller coaster by the end of the evening.

I haven’t even talked about the first day of school yet, have I?

Or how Meadow and I have adjusted?

So many stories left untold.

And I guess that’s all part of it–the changing seasons.  Meadow and I are finding our way around–just the two of us. . .

While still soaking up any moment we can when we are all together again. . .

I guess that’s what it all comes down to.  We are adjusting, and readjusting–trying to find our way.  And maybe, just maybe if I’m really lucky–maybe I can get two of the balls up in the air at once–at least for a moment?

Seasons change–it a painfully beautiful thing.

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And, in case you are wondering where I’ve been–I have been so blessed to photograph so many different people this summer.  From families, to seniors, to documenting beautiful weddings.  I can never talk about SummerK without acknowledging that my photography got it’s start here. Without this space and the support I have found here, SummerK would never have happened and life would look so different now.  For that, I am filled to the brim with gratitude. 

Have a beautiful day, Friends. . .