I ran today, but this time outside the gym...luckily mine is located right near a nice neighborhood with paved sidewalks primed for excerise. I rain outside today, the loamy smell scaping the warm summer earth. I ran at first as a woman, slowly, slowly growing new once more.
I ran through mud puddles just off the sidewalk, the thin brew of coffee-and-milk colored water shocking the toes of my new shoes. I ran until I slipped the world away - of time, work, and hurt that I had just left minutes before.
I ran until there wasn't an inch of dryness to be found. Drenched, finally giving in, a smile spread across my face. I ran until I was a child. There were others around me there still running. Those who hadn't scurried back to their cars and their reality, replying with smiles of their own. We were all children out there, no matter what our age.
I imagined myself an old woman, twenty years or so down the road. Still running. Lacing my shoes and leaving worried and old bones at the door. Floating along in my child's stride. Slower, to be sure, but still running. Growing younger each day, if only for an hour.
Every run is a work of art, a drawing on each day's canvas. Some runs are shouts and some runs are whispers. Some runs are goodbyes and others are celebrations. When you're angry, a run can be a sharp slap in the face. When happy, a run is your song. And when your running progresses enough to become the flower through which life is viewed, motivation is almost beside the point. Rather it's running that motivates you for everything else the day holds.
You can make alot of mistakes; take the road a little sideways. For both running and love are unstoppable...It can make you whole again. Both can bring you back to being born.