I recently spent a week on vacation at South Padre Island with my three kids, my boyfriend Matt, his three children, his parents, his sister, her husband, and their two boys. You read that right: 14 people in one house for seven days. With different people it could have been a nightmare, but I’m thrilled to say that we had a total blast. It was awesome to spend enough time with Matt to see where he comes from and understand why he is as wonderful as he is.
We developed a routine of sorts, a very loose schedule that went like this: The kids slept in a bunkroom and stayed up until the wee hours, then slept in until at least 11 a.m. I would go running along the beach, sometimes with Matt, sometimes alone, then get a good spot and set up a tent for shade. People would filter down to the beach, slather on sunscreen, and hang out.
When we got hungry, which often wasn’t until 3 or 4 p.m., we’d make sandwiches, go to the local beach bar, or head to the ceviche place in town. When we’d had our fill of surf and sun we would head back to the house to clean up.
Very few things feel as fabulous as a shower after a salty, sweaty, sandy day at the beach. We’d have cocktails and play board games, eat a late dinner, and pile onto the sofas and watch TV in a sleepy heap.
I loved every second of it. I felt like a kid at my grandparents’ lake house: completely accepted, loved, and at ease.
We also added some adventure to give the kids something to Snapchat—a crazy wave-hopping banana boat ride behind a jet ski, and a parasailing adventure.Watching Matt’s 7 year-old son flying high above the ocean with his tiny stick legs dangling and a grin the size of his parachute was absolutely priceless.
All these moments are on the camera roll in my mind. Some of them made it to my phone, but I blissfully forgot to get it out most of the time. When all your beloved people are in one place, it’s a treat to take a break from checking in and actually be truly available, in person.
Speaking of moments, I have to share this one: Our last morning I woke up early with end-of-vacation-blues. Boo. Anyway, what’s a runner girl to do besides get up and lace up? So I did.
I quietly threw on clothes and padded out to find my shoes in the pile outside the front door. It was just after six am. I walked a couple blocks to the beach, waking up the rest of the way as I went. It was already humid and it smelled like brine and beach. It was light, but hazy, and the sun wasn’t over the horizon yet.
I’d heard that the sunrises here were beautiful, but, seeing the hazy morning, I resigned myself to the fact that there would be no glow show. Heading in my usual direction I ran along the packed sand, diverting whenever a rogue wave threatened to soak my shoes.
I zenned out for a couple miles; completely losing track of time. Then more people started showing up at the beach: couples holding hands, families with small children playing in the waves, a few runners, people strolling with coffee cups and cameras. Suddenly everyone got quiet. People stopped and turned toward the ocean, the way people stand at a wedding and turn to face the entrance of the bride.
Through the haze, a small glowing dot appeared. Then it grew into a ball so bright it almost hurt to look at it. The ball got bigger. And bigger. And there it was: a new day in all its glory.
Chills covered my body. I stood awestruck. I didn’t even realize I was crying until I felt a tear plop heavily onto my sports bra. I wiped my face with the back of my hand. Some people clapped. One person shouted “Amen!” Another, “Thank you!” I am not sure a church service has ever affected me so deeply.
That feeling: it’s reverence. We don’t have enough of it in this life. Or we don’t slow down often enough to notice it. Those are the moments when we are truly delighted to be alive, breathing, present, experiencing something that directly touches our souls. It’s a moment of Divine Love, displayed for our pleasure.
I felt like a child who has been handed an exquisite gift, not for a birthday, or a holiday—but just because I love you. And like that child, I felt incredibly grateful and also vaguely ashamed for all the times I rush and disregard the giver.
Health - Injuries.
But I’m taking the reverence with me.
Kristin Armstrong is a mother, a writer, and a runner. She has written six books, including her latest, Nutrition - Weight Loss.
