Much better run this morning, which is funny because my mental critic was very vocal about not wanting to go out. There were piles of excuses, but I just nodded to each of them the way you do well-meaning relatives who load you up with diet advice upon learning that you’re losing weight.
I ran alongside Lake Gardner, a little drink of water that feeds the Powwow river. The temperature was just a hair below shirt-soaking. I ran past big homes overlooking the water, each with a manicured lawn and sprinklers fit-fit-fit-fit-fit.
The other side of the road becomes sloping hills the few remaining farmers use for haying. There’s a huge hill on this route, and as always, I hit it running (never on my walk cycles, dammit). I crossed another runner coming down and I used her “this is easy going down” smile to fuel my upward motion. I took a side street into a new development and was I glad.
The new asphalt was spongy. There were a few giant homes built, but lots more open space awaiting financing and heavy hands. I saw a rabbit in the clover, not far from a few big crows. This hill overlooked another body of water, or perhaps it was the far side of Lake Gardner, which I’ve only visited once by canoe. But wherever, I felt I was on top of the world up there. The view of my town’s rolling hills was remarkable.
I came down the hill at a fairly good clip, really relishing in the running. I did my four breaths in, four breaths out (four footfalls to each half of a breath), and stretched it to six for a while thanks to the fast turnover on the hill.
When I got back to town, I felt like continuing past the two miles I was assigned for the day, so I did. I ran past the new loft we’re buying, smiling up at my five windows. I thought of how proud I am for braving this homebuying thing (a fear akin to parachute jumping). I ran down to the center of town, and used the walk back for a longer cooldown. After a quick glass of whey protein, I stretched for a long while, and then came to write to you.
Hope your mornings were equally magical.
[email]