Getting out of a funk

Lately I have been in a funk - physical, emotional, and even a food funk.  I haven't wanted to leave the house, haven't been able to stop weeping, and haven't been able to stop eating.  I ran 10 miles a week ago Sunday - the longest I had ever run - and it took a lot more out of me than I realized.  I have my longest run ever - a half marathon - coming up on February 6th - and I am not at all phased.  To imagine that I, a formerly morbidly obese, totally inactive, out of touch, emotional wasteland, could be entering, running in and full well knowing she will finish a half marathon - is something of a miracle. I remember some years back, when I went to watch a friend Lauren run her first half marathon - I was amazed that a human being could run that far without dropping dead.  I happily accompanied her to the post race pancake feast, but what I didn't know was that a seed had already been planted.  But back to my funk…that 10 miles was hard on me, both physically and emotionally.  I finished, and I finished strong.  I wasn't fast, but there was gas left in the tank and I sprinted to the end.  I wasn't really phased by it the way I was wen I ran 8.  In fact, I was almost blase…but I woke up the next day sad; sad, weepy and very, very tired.  I couldn't finish my yoga class, and I could not eat enough carbs…so I started thinking about the body mind connection and the idea that feelings reside in the flesh.  I run because I like to eat, I run because I want to live a long long life, I run because somewhere in the motion, the silent repetition, I find some peace.  I like repetition and the meditative quality of doing the same thing over and over and finding the nuance, the kernel, the being, the spirit, the ghost in the machine.  So what had I accessed? What lingering pain did I tap into? There has been a lot of lingering pain.  I am feeling so much loss these days, and it is working its way out of me slowly.  It feels like a slow, damp, San Francisco fog, gliding over the hills, concealing Sutro tower, blanketing The City in a gray mood.  Lots of loss.  Loss of my dogs, loss of my yoga studio, loss of my town, loss of a friendship, loss of a love that amounted to much less than I had ever hoped, really, these are all things that I can have again, do have now in some ways, are all re-creatable, so why the attachment to the feeling? I have a three mile run tomorrow, this time with a friend, so in the motion of my legs, I will listen for joy and wonder.  I will dangle my toes over the groundlessness and move forward.