It's been a difficult few weeks; the little walk in the weeds was a good reminder of the lesson about focus, and time. It may be interesting and dramatic to watch the unraveling of subplots, but in the end, if they don't serve, they don't belong, no matter how fascinating they look. Being sick is another kind of wilderness, and it's easy to give in to a fantasy of giving up. But as of Friday, after work, I took it upon myself to pony up and get outside, in an effort to jump start my engines once again.
Friday was nothing but wandering and stretching around the complex. Saturday, after business in Hallandale, I parked south of the bridge and ran north to the bandshell at Hollywood beach and back. That was a substantial enough loop, in very high winds, to give me back a sense of true running. And today, after enough of a sleep in, I did the Griffin long loop, and really tested myself, and lived to tell the tale.
I've lost some uumph...that's for sure. But I feel like I have good base strength, enoough to fight those winds and cool temps. My romance with running is safely intact. And I am so happy to have my dream in my back pocket to turn to when the pressures of getting by begin to feel a little nerve wracking. There is always an open road, and it welcome me, every time.
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