Alarm goes off.

First reaction. Groggy.

Second reaction. Fear. Anxiety.

But I get up anyway, lace up, put on my running shorts (even though it’s in the mid-50s, there’s something about wearing running shorts vs. capris that makes me feel like a runner) and set out with M for a run.

Despite the last three craptastic runs and the even more shittastic half marathon performance, I am feeling hopeful, but with a smidge of worry that I’m kidding myself into thinking my mojo will come back.

Me: “over/under on bunnies today?”

M: two!

Me: (thinking) I bet I just jinxed us and we’ll see none, but I hope for 3!

We set out on a newly found route near M’s (less hilly! Yay flat!).

And we run.

I feel speedy. I feel good. I am breathing.

I pass M (not purposely).

He keeps up.

But so do I.

My legs are moving.

I feel as though I am running like the wind.

THIS is what my runs are supposed to feel like.

Challenging but not difficult.

Focused, but not obsessive.

Happy, not anxious.

And we ran, and ran, and I was actually smiling.

About a quarter of a mile back home. A bunny.

One lone bunny. But man, was he so cute and fluffy. I wanted to pat him. I was smiling big. (even though we didn’t meet our over/under!)

We round the bend where we usually walk the last little bit. And I sprint.

I pass M again.

He passes me.

I pass him.

Done.

4 solid miles.

4 AWESOME miles.

I could have run all day. In fact, I wanted to keep going.

But we capped it there, determined to be satisfied with quality and not quantity.

Because isn’t that’s what running is all about?

A run that sticks with you all day, that makes you smile, gives you a boost to your step and motivation to set out again tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that?

Run like the wind.

I will channel this feeling.

I am a runner.