Short Runs

Because we weren't out to set out speed records today.

We slept in, tangled in blankets and each other, limbs and cat and comforter, and woke up, our hands reaching for each other. And finally, we rose.

Our legs ached - mine from a 50k on rocks and hills the day before, yours from a brutal speed workout two days before. Could we do the 10 miles at 7:45 pace?

We opted for enjoyment...and rest. We weren't ready to beat ourselves up. We tugged on running clothes and headed out.

At Gantry Plaza, you flopped on one of the chairs. I always wanted to do that, always having run by them. I sat in your lap and we watched the boats go by. You held me. We talked of island expansion, of fireworks, of important moments. And this was one, just enjoying the day, each other, ourselves.

We rose. We ran home, laughing. We ate breakfast. I ruined the eggs, you helped me save them. It all tasted fine, especially when peanut butter is around. Especially when I can kiss you after.

And now, I'm off for another short run, this time, alone, but the one this morning is what sustains me for now.