Last night I had a good run. One of those runs that actually feels good. I ran outside to get out and about and becasue I'm trying to get exposed to the weather in an attempt to aclimate. I plan to run another 5K in two weeks, and if I am to face that heat again, I have to get used to it, and I can't hide indoors on the treadmill forever. So, I've been running outside about once a week, and last night was one of those runs. And it was nice.
The weather wasn't so hot, there was significant cloud cover and the sun had already set, but it was still humid and I was sweating like a towel squeezed of excess water, but like I said, the run felt good. Every once and awhile I have very positive feelings about running, and instead of thinking how hard it is, or what hurts, or how hot I am, I actually focus on how lucky I am that I'm so healthy, that I can get out and run, and that I have use of my limbs (weird one, I know, but I do think that; how much harder would all this exercise be if I were missing an arm or a leg?).
And despite the fact that a bug flew into my eye and another flew into my mouth, I loved running and I was reminded that I had started this whole project because somewhere back in time, I remember how I did love to run; it just took a while to work up to a place where I could enjoy it again. However, I feel a little strange writing such positive things, so don't worry fellow readers, tomorrow I will be sure to come up with some sarcastic or cynical remark. Lord knows, we don't need too much inspiration.
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