I am, still, after four years of running, completely suprised at how the simple act of moving through the world on my own two feet at a pace of my own choosing can make me makes me so strong, so powerful.
I worked from home today, and just before lunch, laced up my running shoes and headed out the door. Spring has reared her head here, so things are greening and blooming and it was cool and breezy, and bright and clear. Perfect running weather. I dragged out my garmin forerunner for this run, because I at least wanted to know how far I went, regardless of the pace. Technically, Mondays are supposed to be recovery runs for me (which would imply I did something on Sunday to recover from) but I didn't run this weekend, I rode both horses on Sunday, and while my core and abductors are very sore, running doesn't ease riding soreness. So off I went.
I made up the run as I went along. Since I was running along the main road in front of my neighborhood, I left the IPOD at home. I got some running advice from a guy picking up his mail "pick your knees up a little higher", was told to be careful by a guy on a bike, and my personal favorite, was yelled "what are you training for?" by a guy at a stop sign, I smiled waved, and yelled back "the rest of my life". Yeah, I know, totally corny. I couldn't help myself.
Some runs are just like that.