I got home from work, desperate for a run to shake the fatigue and atrophy from my limbs. I quickly put on my running gear and went out the door. Passing across the main drag in town, I could smell the aroma of burgers, fries, and giant pork tenderloins coming from the Mr. Mouse and the Hideout. It smelled wonderful, and part of me wanted to stop and partake of the warm greasy goodness.
Down at the park, with thoughts of fried food finally vacating my brain, I gazed in silent amazement at the sky, with its wisps of clouds and contrails tinged with pink, which then faded to purple and finally to bluish gray as the sun sank, continuing on its journey toward tomorrow. Looking higher, I could see the sliver of a moon hanging like a tiny fingernail high in the sky.
The park was quiet except for the distant woosh of cars, the gurgle of the creek, walkers politely greeting each other, and the rhythm of my own breathing in a breathe-in-two-steps-breathe-out-two-steps pattern.
The burn in my quads at the end of my second mile made me realize I’ve been out of this far too long.
And everything together reminded me how much I love to run.
Hey, I wanted to let you all know that I’ll be taking a break for a few days for Thanksgiving. Have a great holiday!