Yesterday morning, I went out for a run with not very much intention, other than to follow a certain route I had come up with. If I was to complete the entire route, it would have been more than five miles but I went out with the attitude to just get out there and run.
I was layered up…after all, it was 40 degrees but it was also clear blue skies and sunny and absolutely perfect fall weather. I ran through the familiar streets of my neighborhood and then crossed over the boulevard that would take me through the streets of the next neighborhood, which I love to run through. I followed that route I had come up with, up until I reached a street that opens up to four different roads and instead of choosing to go left, I continued on with the straight road and allowed it to lead me to go a little further than I originally planned.
I wasn’t looking at my watch…it was covered up by my long sleeve shirt and jacket and gloves. I had no idea of my pace and my time…and it was actually freeing. I just ran. I ran with intent and I ran with joy and those two things don’t always mix but yesterday morning, they were both there. I waved to the children on the bus as I passed it and turned onto the next street. I was aware of all that I was seeing around me and all that I was doing yet all of the numbers — the pace, the distance, the time – were unbeknownst to me. I was running just because. I was able to. I was running because I chose to. And when I decided I was done, I pressed ‘stop’ and had a moment — a moment of achievement and accomplishment…something similar to what I feel every time I cross the finish line of a race. Exhilaration. Amazement. Joy.