It seemed weird to run in the middle of the day...I really needed that sleep, and just allowed myself to wake up naturally, deciding to run all the errands first today. By noon I was back, and out the door, ready to run a long loop, up to Griffin, west to the Seminoles, back on Thomas. The weather, which has gratefully taken a turn for the slightly cooler, was cooperating, as rain showers careened somewhere close to the area, but never quite on me. Breezes full of cool air buffeted against pockets of heat; and once I began the stretch down 40th, something wonderful opened up. The road began to feel more like a launchpad, and my gait something like a smooth engine running in a steady rhythm. It was a little hit and miss at times, but when it came into sync, it felt like a thing of utter beauty and astonishment. The happiness that comes with this motion is hard to capture, but weightlessness, within a strange context of weighted rhythm, is the essence.
It was a beautiful ride. For no reason I can think of. It felt like a gift for hard times, something reaching from the outskirts of my potential, reminding me that there is lots of progress to be had. Keep it up. Keep up with the wonderment of surprise.
Homage to Crash....it's heartening to see your blog, and to know you are my first follower! White Rock could be your come back. I'd love to run it with you.
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