is to run.
Sure, you could walk.
But tonight when I went for a run, there was something magical about gunning up as fast as I could. I felt strong and young and free– and I didn’t have a time limit or someplace to go.
In three months, I haven’t had any blisters or blackened toenails. Partially because I have yet to break serious mileage but also because I invested in good shoes upfront.
But man, the exhilaration! I ran up and down and across–
a big hill, a bridge, a small foothill.
Repetition. I was my own coach!
I was shocked how much I enjoyed it– especially on the wooden bridge crossing the river. Hearing myself pound those boards, the feel of the wood giving beneath my feet– yet knowing I’m totally safe.
Tonight I let myself deviate a bit from routine.
I loved the drill of it, seeing people out with their kids and dogs. I loved being one of those people just out enjoying nature, passing the other runners and bikers. There’s an unspoken kinship.
If I’m slowing down to walk, seeing another runner lights a fire under me to get back to work.
I’m in all my neon running gear, totally clashing.
I’m listening to ’80s pop on Pandora, singing along as I go.
I could just imagine Dexy’s Midnight Runners crooning instead,
“Come on A-MEE, oh,
I swear what he means, (what he means,)
at this moooooo-ment,
you mean everything…”
Or, bless them, Heart:
“How do I geeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet you ALLLLLLLLOOOOONE? A-looooooooooooooone…
I’m chasing that famous runner’s high. And it seems to kick in around 2.5 miles for me– I feel like I could just keep going, if only I let myself. By then I’m sweating something glorious, my heart is banging, my breathing has evened out– my legs and feet don’t hurt at all.
Tonight I made it 3.46 miles in 47.16 minutes.
I’mma get there!
Five miles. It’s gonna happen before summer is over.