I don't often go so long without running, and lordie how I have missed it! I didn't realize how deeply, happily addicted to it I've become. It wasn't the usual twitchy irritable need for exercise--I've been feeding the rat a steady diet of mtb rides--but more of a wistful longing. When I run it's so quiet and simple. My brain shuts off except for the slow trickle of filigreed phrases I store up to write down later. Running has none of the folderol and riskiness of riding; lace up, head out, alone, undaunted.
Since my nails hadn't fallen off yet, I anticipated that first run like a birthday. Back on the trails! Please! After a slow start up the so-familiar rises of Sycamore, I took off. And felt like I was flying.