A few years ago, when we first started all this running and stuff, Baboo said to me the something that caused peals of laughter:
Sometimes, I just love to feel my body move.
I think I even responded something snarky, like:
I love to feel my body laying on the couch.
But this morning, I got it. I really got it.
I hadn't run since Sundays 10K run/5k walk thing, and I felt like I needed to. I would have run last night, but we went to dinner with relatives. It's been a bit of a stressful week, and I have a triathlon this weekend, and an ultra the next.
But, that's not why I dragged my 170 pounds out onto the hills at dawn this morning. I can't explain what drew me up and out of bed early, but I laid out my clothes and shoes and ipod last night, then went out. I went up and around and down the hills. It was only for about 1-1/2 miles for about 25 minutes before work, but that's all I needed.
There was no Garmin, no objective, no target pace, and no plans. I just moved easily and enjoyably over a known loop around the trails, not caring how I looked, or how fast I was going.
I felt my heart pounding, my chest heaving and my lungs burning; the air was cool on my skin; I felt strong as I crested small hills. I rounded one corner and the early morning city was spread out before me, the sun not yet on it.
I finished and walked into the kitchen, and told Baboo how wonderful it was and how great I felt and then I told him, if he was my patient, I would prescribe this for him every day.
And that's when he reminded me of how I mocked him for talking about how he liked just feeling my body move.
I walked back into the house and loved everyone and
life is good
and I loved, just loved,
feeling my body move.
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