A Real Runner

Yesterday, Mike took Lucas to an airshow and gave me the entire afternoon off to enjoy on my own. So blissful and needed.

It was gorgeous out and I decided to go for a run. I dressed the part in my old running shorts and t-shirt, double layer socks, pedometer, favorite Mizuno Legends and shoe pocket. I even carried my special, handled waterbottle. I felt pretty cool and maybe even a little hardcore. Like my old self again. Even if for just a moment. That was until I turned the corner out of my cul-de-sac and twisted my ankle. I ran through the pain which quickly subsided.

I went for a three miler loving every minute of it. The sound of my feet hitting the pavement, the rhythmic breathing, the sweat, the air on my body that hadn't seen the light of day for months. I even felt the air on my feet as it passed through my mesh shoes. I must have been going fast. Maybe not.

I missed running. It had been about a month and a half since I had (since I've been so wasted tired in my early pregnancy) and 5 months since I had gone without pushing Lucas in the jogger.