“Running Back to Myself” Love Geno wine

“Running Back to Myself”

It started with a choice:

Live or die.

That’s what the doctor told me.

And in that moment, something clicked.

I remembered I used to run.

So I laced up, and I started again.

It wasn’t just about the weight I lost  it was about the weight I carried.

Stress. Regret. Responsibility.

Running gave me something I hadn’t felt in a long time: control.

And slowly, I found my rhythm again  one mile at a time.

But running taught me more than how to breathe through pain.

It taught me how to listen.

How to pace myself.

How to show up, even when it hurt.

And that same lesson?

It applies to love.

Because love  real love  ain’t a sprint.

It’s a marathon.

And in that race, you’re going to mess up your pace.

You’ll have stretches where you give less than you should’ve.

Moments where you didn’t listen.

Times when you thought showing up was enough.

I’ve looked back on past relationships like I look at race stats 

Trying to figure out where I got weak.

Trying to learn from my mistakes so I don’t repeat them.

Because love, just like running, is about honesty, discipline, and grace.

People will remind you of the miles you fumbled.

The laps where you got lost.

But they won’t always acknowledge the miles you showed up with love.

And that’s okay.

Because I don’t run for applause.

And I don’t love for credit.

I do it because it makes me whole.

So today, after my 5K, with sweat on my brow and peace in my chest,

I pour this wine with gratitude.

Gratitude that my heart, my lungs, and even my broken moments 

are still strong enough to let me participate.

To the lessons from the pavement, and the ones from the heart 

I’m still learning.

I’m still healing.

But most of all…

I’m still running.

Love Geno