I started running more than a year ago. These days, I try to do go at least 5 times a week. When I started back in July 2008, I couldn't run more than 3 minutes! I wondered how the hell I was gonna run 15 minutes straight (which at the time was my goal) when I was ready to collapse after barely 3. But time passed and I persevered, adding a few more minutes every couple of weeks. I can run a good 40 minutes now without stopping, except when I have to wait for the light to turn green at intersections.
When I look back at my dismal beginnings, I am amazed. I am amaze at myself for actually enjoying running now (for the longest time, I viewed people who enjoyed running as completely out of their minds!). I am amazed at how the human body adapts and builds strength. Most days, when I get up in the morning, I don't feel like running. The thought of having to provide a physical effort makes me want to stay in bed under my warm, fluffly and very comfortable covers. But I do get up. I get dressed and get out there. Some days, my energy shoots up through my body and I feel like I could run forever. Other days, like this morning, I am a willing spirit but my body does not respond as well. The muscles in my legs feel heavy, my feet resist the forward motion and the sustained rythm that I try to maintain.
As I was looking up at the grey skies, I asked myself why I was running. Was it just to lose a few pounds and get some exercize? A flock of geese forming an almost perfect v-shape was flying above me heading south, music from The Last Samurai was playing in my ipod and in that moment, I realized that I run for the feeling I get, for the beauty I see every morning I do, for the sensation of strength — and sometimes euphoria — I have in my entire body. I run to smell the air flooded with the scent of blooming lilacs in Spring, to pluck a few morning glory seedlings drooping from a wooden fence in Fall and to somehow remind myself that each brand new day I get to experience is an amazing gift.
