Today, I ran without technology. No music. No running app. No earbuds. It wasn't a conscious decision; it was because my phone was nearly dead.
Just booked it out the door and beat a tattoo on our hard-packed road to the tune of nature. Birds singing, crickets chirping, a peacock loudly calling. A tractor smoothed a nearby road and traffic rumbled down Main Street. I didn't stop a single time - no phone camera to take a pic of a house against the breath-taking backdrop of... our version of snow-covered Alps or a lilac bush heavy with perfume.
Just booked it out the door and beat a tattoo on our hard-packed road to the tune of nature. Birds singing, crickets chirping, a peacock loudly calling. A tractor smoothed a nearby road and traffic rumbled down Main Street. I didn't stop a single time - no phone camera to take a pic of a house against the breath-taking backdrop of... our version of snow-covered Alps or a lilac bush heavy with perfume.
I thought for sure my energy would flag as I ran two miles down Race street to Main, west to Bowery past the library, down Clark and back the way I came. Without music, I had the familiar sensation of wanting to stop partway, but I still had energy. I ran after breakfast - a double-edged sword - with energy to burn but also not wanting to push myself as hard as I could on a full stomach.
I will admit, I didn't even want to run today. Didn't even want to get up and do Crossfit at 6. But like the other days, once I have my "uniform" on, my body just automatically clicks into willing mode. I put my shirt and pants on, put my hair back into a band and pony tail, wear my shoes and grab my keys. I go to crossfit, push past my anxiety about the list on the chalkboard and launch myself into the workout.
Then I run. Lately, it's been two miles. I start with one foot, the other follows, and the next, halfway, then past, until I am done. Today I ran strong, conscious of my arms pumping, my legs striding. I didn't time myself, but my effort felt significant, something to feel proud of.
I will admit, I didn't even want to run today. Didn't even want to get up and do Crossfit at 6. But like the other days, once I have my "uniform" on, my body just automatically clicks into willing mode. I put my shirt and pants on, put my hair back into a band and pony tail, wear my shoes and grab my keys. I go to crossfit, push past my anxiety about the list on the chalkboard and launch myself into the workout.
Then I run. Lately, it's been two miles. I start with one foot, the other follows, and the next, halfway, then past, until I am done. Today I ran strong, conscious of my arms pumping, my legs striding. I didn't time myself, but my effort felt significant, something to feel proud of.
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