Run

As many times as I have started, stopped, and started my blog, quadruple that number and you get a rough estimation of how many times I have started, stopped, and started running. Not an athletic person by nature or nurture I succumbed to the Jane Fonda fad in the eighties, but mostly just to wear the tights, leotards, legwarmers, and headbands. After a long history of joining and quitting every gym in town I finally found a trainer who taught me how to run. I’m not one of those born-again runners touting the awesomeness of the runner’s high. I have never had the runner’s high. I have had the runner’s knee, the runner’s sore big toe, and the runner’s heat exhaustion, but never the runner’s high. It was because of the runner’s knee that I quit running, but I’m as bad at quitting things as I am at, well, at quitting things. That is to say, I quit quitting.

I ran today. I didn’t intend to, it just happened. I enjoy my morning walks in my new town. There is a fabulous trail around the Concho River that just begged me to run it. I tried to ignore it, but there is something about the rhythm of running that gets me every time. It is like typing or writing when you are really in the groove and it just flows, sort of a writer’s high of sorts.

Will I run tomorrow? I don’t know. I hope I will. I hope I can make a better showing than I did today. I must confess to only running on the downhill parts of the trail, but at least it was a start. Maybe I’ll keep it up until I experience the runner’s high I’ve heard so much about. Or, maybe I’ll just keep trying for the writer’s high – it is a lot easier on my knees.