…But a runner that does run is definitely a runner.

Aaaaand… I’m back. It was only three miles. But what a three miles. I loved every second of it, running with a stupid grin on my face.

For a long while, it didn’t look like I was going to get to run. Meetings at work ran late, and there’s still so much to do in the new apartment, and having dinner with my kids and ex-wife, and getting roped into playing a PC game with my son (he’s very persuasive for a ten year old). It was 11pm before I finally left the house.

I’d worked out a one mile circuit earlier on in the day, and it was actually more accurate than our old one mile circuit. Kasia was working late, and didn’t expect to be home before midnight. I was goign to run. For the first time in a month. I sent Kasia a text. “you’re crazy,” she replied, “It’s 11pm.” I knew that. I also knew that if I didn’t run now, I would find excuses for every other day this week.

Some halfhearted stretching followed the texts; I was in a rush to get out the door, figuring that I was a little out of shape and wouldn’t be running too far or fast anyway.

And then… I was gone. Out of the door, turning left and looking for road signs to follow my new route.

I completed the first lap, easing straight into my usual 7:30 pace like I’d been running without a four week break. As I passed my front door, I chuckled as I saw my lap time. Like clockwork.

The second lap, was exactly the same. And the third.

I hesitated as I finished the third lap. Kasia would be back soon, and I didn’t want to overdo the run on first return. The last thing I needed was another lay off through injury. Three miles, without break, like clockwork. A good, if short run.

I think I may do the same today. Well, tonight.


4 thoughts on “…But a runner that does run is definitely a runner.

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