There is nothing to stop the fire that burns in your toes when spring is in the air. There is no holding back that spirit that drives you to jump out of bed at 4:45am and get your shoes on five minutes early just to see if you can beat the birds wake up call. That awkward place between winter running wear and summer skin is bridged. All the crap on your mind dissipates in the quiet mist when seconds don't matter and seem not to add against a tally of your days countdown.
There is just you, the smell of thawing worms, the lingering dream of Boston marathon 2013, and your shoes....
Let it run. Let you hope spring forth and set the pace. Let the tingling in your toes bring a smile to your face and a restless sleep before a hill workout. Let that stupid stupid mistake in your past stand on the curb while you run free... I promise you ... it will wait for you. Let yourself just be. You and moons last beams can dance along the path, road, trail as though no one is waking... Just be.
It's nearing the end of March. I am not afraid of April. I'm feeling ok with May. June has me a wee be jittery. July ... July... I cry myself to sleep worrying about those hills on the bike route of my half ironman. But it isn't in vain... It's in the tangle of finding who I am. I am here. I am learning that is enough... I am carrying this fierce hope. It maybe carries me. I bring it with me on my way to work. I sing to it while I sip my coffee. I nurture it in the snuggles with my kids. Hope... I am here. Me and the thawing worms. Dancing in the wakeful dark on each morning run.
You might laugh if you saw me ... I keep trying to convince myself you need something special to push through chaos and emerge an ironman...
The truth is... You don't... Just be you and start. Butterflies are just well practised caterpillars.
It is day 447 of my run streak. I don't go far. I don't get there fast. But I go.
Today... You go... See what you find along the way.
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