I love to run.
It has been a painful and difficult road back. I have lost much endurance and speed. Not to mention strength.
But that is OK. It is behind and I am moving forward.
I feel my pro-preceptors respond to every asphalt, gravel, grass and stone irregularity. My lungs are getting used once again to the demand.
My heart seems to be OK with it. At least it isn't sending SOS messages.
The sun is shining and I am sleeveless for the first time this year.
I like it. I feel strong today although I have logged double sessions every day this week. Yesterday was a killer with two high-intensity indoor spin sessions. I was weak and sore this morning and flirted with skipping the run because of this evenings ride.
But I pushed myself out the door and now I am running.
I hear birds, dogs and cars. A lot of cars. I wish they would all stay home in their garages and come out only when I am home.
I never worried about this when I lived across from the park. There was never a need. Now I run in the street and it bothers me.
I could drive to the park and run there, but that seems so hypocritical. The beauty of running is that all your need are some sneakers and the will to move. Driving to where you are going to run defeats the organic simplicity of it.
I could ride my bike there and call it a brick.
Nice.
Scheduled.
Creative solutions often appear when I run.
Pic is of RG and me at the finish of 1997 Boston Marathon. He did good that day, I just ran.
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