7.6 miles
I started pitifully slow, but ended this run with grace and ease, the body naturally transitioned once it warmed up (once again, don't trust what your body say before you start running, because it will always ask you to go for a path of least resistance).
The return run was up the hill, and I HATE RUNNING UP THE HILL! I dread, I despise it, I fear it, and yet I respect it. I don't know if it ever happens that I "sneeze and I am already on top of the hill" (meaning run with such an ease up this stupid hill that I don't even notice it), but it doesn't matter. The fact that I face it every day, and yet keep coming back for more... some weird mental relationship develops in your head.
On the weekends it's a lot more joyful to run, because I don't feel "rushed", I don't have to finish by a certain time, I can run as little as I want or run for as long as I feel like it (caveat: I will often call back to come and pick me up... wherever I end up). When I was a kid, I used to do it on my bike, ride it around the city and explore the areas, streets, parts I would have never seen otherwise. Now I do it by foot... and it feels like "I am closer to where I used to be".
Comments