I’ve become nearly obsessed with this poem by Karen Enns that resonates so deeply as I reckon with these last months of pregnancy. It is titled A Gull Will Almost Land and I’ve read it almost every day since it was shared with me by a dear friend (who is also pregnant).

The poem ends with:
“We are all defined by something like surrender,
not a giving in exactly,
not a yielding,
but suspension, perfect justice,
as the holding becomes the opening,
as the moment of arrival on dry ground,
small and blazing with intent,
becomes departure.”

Blazing with intent. 

Intent is defined as:
noun

1. intention or purpose.

adjective

1. resolved or determined to do (something).
2. (especially of a look) showing earnest and eager attention.
   
   It feels serendipitous that my entire pregnancy has almost perfectly aligned with my Littlewing teammates' journey to the USATF Olympic Trials and there are more parallels than I would have thought. Each of us blazing through this season with deep intent. Full of resolve and determination. Showing earnest and eager attention to our individual and collective goals and dreams. This alignment has kept me engaged in their training, and they have mirrored that with boundless support and inclusion for me and my ever changing abilities to physically show up and join them.

A couple weeks ago we had a team meeting to revisit our team values and the individual goals and objectives that we set last fall - back when I first shared my goal of prioritizing a family in the next year. It was so comforting to hear each of them remind us of their intentions, to let us know what they needed from the team and what the team could expect from them as we head into the final weeks before the trials. I was surprised when Lauren asked me to share my own. And then I got choked up (Collier would say my eyes got a little sweaty) as I tried to express gratitude to this incredible group of women who have taught me so much and have allowed me to be an important part of their journey. Our journey. I was initially terrified that temporarily losing the ability to train and be involved with the team would leave me feeling left out and isolated. Yet I have experienced the complete opposite. Being witness to what my teammates have accomplished this year has filled me up in the best ways and has served as an excellent reminder that the running community is always available to us - even if it might look a little differently at times.

There have been so many moments in the last eight months that I get stuck on mourning all the micro sacrifices I’m currently experiencing. I think this feels particularly hard because I don’t yet have the ability to trust or see the potential gains that are waiting for me on the other side. There are no guarantees here. Just as there are no guarantees with training and racing. But when you make the decision to trust, blazing with intent, that is the moment when magic happens.

Fingers crossed I’m able to make it to Eugene before this baby comes to support my team in person to witness that magic. Head up, wings out.