I just got back from a run. An easy (to me) 4-mile run. My runs are never easy. But this one was different. My foot never didn’t fall asleep, like it usually does. I wasn’t out of breath going up that hill on Commonwealth. My right knee didn’t have that weird twinge it sometimes gets. My runners high was present the entire time. I could have run for miles tonight. So why didn’t I? Why did I feel like I had to come back? I wasn’t wearing my watch so I had no idea how far I had gone, but I had a pretty good idea based on where I was. Tonight though, I just ran. I cried at the end of my run. Not because I was sad, but because it felt so good. Because my head was so clear. Because the air was perfect. Because I have the ability to just run. Because tonight I thought about nothing. I just ran. I only decided to turn around because I was thirsty. I forgot water. *laughing* So I turned around, just like that, and ran back.
Running is my church. It allows me to just be. I don’t have to talk to anyone. I don’t have to be anyone. I don’t have to watch what I say. I don’t have entertain anyone. No one expecting anything of me. I’m silent. I hear my heartbeat. I listen to my breathing. Feel the pavement below my feet, each step. And I run. And while I didn’t run as far as I have in the past few days. And I didn’t meet my training goal for today. This was the best run I’ve had in a very long time. I just teared up thinking about it. Yes, running has that profound of an effect on me.
If you don’t run, you probably don’t understand what I’m saying, but Running is my church. Perhaps I’ll see you there one day.