Boston to Jaffa Port: Running Against the Wave

I ran with Boston in mind. I needed to clear my head, but I felt a strong connection in the exercise. There was more pressing. The heavy physical exertion had a subtle solidarity. 

So as it started, and my shoes hit the pavement  - down the street - up and down the stairs, I thought about how their race turned into one for their lives. And 3 were lost. The people were brave. They faced terror with so much strength; Freedom wins again. We came together.

Now, as I turned the corner at the bottom of the stairs, my shoes landed on the dock, the Port at Jaffa. As I passed the boats, I closed my eyes for just a moment: nothing but the sound of the Sea reached my ears...and my soul.

I pushed my body, jumped over the dock benches and took a deep breath. The clouds sprinkled fresh rain, the waves rushed and lapped together - it was harmony, peace, perfection.

There was no music to listen to on this run, phone turned off and in my sleave, laptop left behind. The morning was dreary and the only people out were fisherman and restaurant staff. I broke a sweat and released daily stress, mental and physical tensions.

When I came to another set of stairs, leading down to the beach, I raced them up and down avoiding the thought of trying to be Rocky, and focused on the task of pushing myself as hard as I could, because my brothers and sisters did it only a day before - even in the face of an attack.

I climbed up a stone platform - looked over the Sea and bowed with a nod of Namaste. For the next 25 minutes, I formed, positioned myself and challenged the high sea to a duel. Fierce yoga versus the swallowing waves. A battle of soulful recognition and gracious acceptance. The waves showed me power and I showed them strength.

When I finished, I ran up the stairs, back down the dock, through the streets and finished satisfied.