Sunday, September 16, 2012

Recalling one of my first "long runs"

Sometime in 2010 I ran 18 miles on pavement.
It poured.
Cold rain drops slapped against my neon yellow windbreaker.
Straight to the skin.
Then to the bones.
I don't know what I thought about out there.
I was alone.
The rain drops met the canopy leaves and beat like a rhythmic lullaby.
My over padded shoes and tired stride tried to mimic the sound.
They failed to be as calming.
Slap.
Slap.
Slap.
Bad form.
Wet gloves.
Numb fingers.
The cold Northwest rain streaked into my eyes.
I didn't try to wipe it away.
It was just another part of me.
I ran up the last hill to my parking lot.
There she was.
She wrapped her arms around me.
I started crying.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"I don't know."




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