I have convinced myself that if I count down the lampposts along the boardwalk the time goes by faster. So there I was, running the boardwalk and beginning my “lamppost countdown.”
With 5 lampposts left Passion Pit’s Carried Away blared in my headphones. I picked up the pace.
4 a smile spread across my face.
3 the sun was blinding and beautiful.
2 I’m almost there.
1 I’m crying.
There I was- by myself, crying on the boardwalk listening to Passion Pit. For any observer this would have been quite the odd thing to see. A twenty-five year old female, alone and sobbing for no apparent reason. Fortunately it was 6:30 in the morning and the only people out were me, the seagulls, and some man that I swear was secretly racing me.
This was my catharsis.
When I woke up that morning I knew I had turned a new leaf that would be a journey, and possibly a struggle. I put my sneakers on with determination, did a stretch, and was on my way. When did I let myself stop caring? When did I convince myself that I didn’t deserve to be an active 25 year old? I didn’t even know when the slump started, but it did.
My story starts in 2003 when I was sixteen and diagnosed with lupus. My new story started yesterday morning.
52 Miles per Month 
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You know what’s good after a catharsis? Go to the Laurel street diner and order the Elivis Pancakes.
May these new days be grand.
Best. Suggestion. Ever. I have never ordered them, but I’m thinking it’s in my near future.
Go For it!
My mother took me there when I was a few weeks old in July 1965. Apparently that is where I met my father for the first time (so legend goes). I always go back there with him when I visit Long Beach. We visit the boardwalk too.
Eat up.