As the season warms and the first pink buds appear on trees around town, I find myself longing for the sensation of feet pounding against pavement. This is the time of year when I emerge from exercise hibernation and reclaim my running clothes from a neglected bottom drawer. Driving down my street towards home at the end of the day, I am reminded of huffing and puffing in the opposite direction, just three years ago...
Legs cramping, heart thundering, and mind focused entirely on the act of forcing air in and out of my lungs, I reached the top of River Road. My trusty running partner, who at this point was my partner in pain, remained by my side. We gasped a collective sigh of relief and victory. One mile to go. No more hills. And as I wiped the steady stream of sweat from my forehead and began to drag my feet, one step at a time, down the road ahead, I became aware of how perfect the morning was. A street lined with blossom trees lay ahead of us, the bright March sun illuminated the scene, and a cool spring breeze brought it gently to life. We began to regain our pace, and I felt the previous 12 miles slip away as I embraced the simple pleasure of running with my friend down a street that I love.
My running shoes have been in retirement for the last two years but I plan to dust them off and get back on the pavement this month. I hope this post will hold me accountable!