Last night I ran. It wasn't down this particular road, but one very similar.
When I run, I am always amazed at how much I don't think. I know of so many people who talk about their running as their time to pray or reflect or let their mind travel to the deepest corners of consciousness. That doesn't usually happen for me.
Last night's run began with me thinking about how much I didn't want to have to run through the construction. Then I started thinking about what route I would run and if it was going ot be long enough to get 5 miles in. Then I started getting tired and thought about just turning around and going home, but I knew that I would just hate myself for not putting in the miles that I wanted to log.
But a strange thing happened as I started getting closer to home. I started being really thankful for the physical act of running. I was glad that my body was able to do what I was asking it to do. I knew that I wasn't running very fast. I knew that I certainly wasn't a top-notch athlete...and that I never would be. But I could run. And I could run a few miles, without stopping. I think that puts me in the minority of people in this country. I came up a little short of my 5 mile goal, which was disappointing because I had contemplated going around the block once more to put a little more distance under my feet.
Sometimes, I don't want to run. Sometimes I get discouraged that I can't go faster or farther or push myself harder. But there comes that point in my run, when the simple rhythm of my feet on the pavement produces a change in the way I view the world. It sounds so philosophical. Maybe it is all the extra oxygen I'm getting, or maybe it is lactic acid build up, or maybe I'm just crazy. But I finish my runs a whole lot better than when I start. I'm happier, more energized (but still physically tired) and just think that the proverbial glass is half full. And I am so thankful that I can run.