last night as soon as i got home from class, i was shrugging off
corporate clothes for the clothes i feel most comfortable in:
running clothes. my orange saucony shorts, a white t-shirt from a
5miler i ran last october, a sports bra. sneakers, my brace, and
socks. puff albuterol (twice), foradil (once), flovent (once) and
intal (once). and i'm gone.
outside, the sun was slowly setting, and i appreciated daylight
savings time. i ran quickly, from franklin to bank and down wythe,
over to berry. i ran efficiently and happily, loving the spring
weather, the air on my bare legs and arms, running fast,
smiling. "everything is wonderful." i turned around on north 3rd,
then ran along the water on kent. i paused twice on kent, ostensibly
to stretch, but really, to gawk at the beautiful view. the sky was a
mess of blue and grey, swirls, like a painting. buildings were light
up in white, blue, pink, yellow. it was simply so beautiful. i
couldn't touch it--because i was part of it. it was so real and so
fresh and so wonderful. yes, i'm in dirty nyc, but this is a
wonderful place to live, my home, where i feel so right. and
running? why it's the only way that i can possibly explore the world.
one day i'd like to do a forrest gump. not the usa, maybe, but a
small country. or even--iceland! there are so many places in the
world that i can learn about by running. i know other travelers are
like, "i don't work out when i travel" but i insist upon my two
running outfits. i'm not just working out; i'm learning about the
culture and myself--and it is my practice.
i am a runner.