It was warm enough this morning that I ran through the neighborhoood, rather than at the indoor track. (That’s right–the same person who insisted on getting a walk in every day during her below-freezing week in upstate New York and Vermont thought Tucson too cold to run in. Perhaps because I feel morally entitled not to run in a jacket, here.)
Blue skies streaked with cloud and the first edge of spring in the air make for nice running weather. Every time I take a week off I’m afraid I’m going to have forgotten how, or lost the muscles that know how, when I try again, but that hasn’t happened yet. It was a slow run, but a good one.
It still isn’t like flying. But I no longer feel like I’m going to die when I do this. And it isn’t exactly like not-flying anymore, either.
On the other hand, I’m probably going to feel the long walk to run errands and meet a friend for lunch that I took right afterwards. But did I mention there’s an edge of spring in the air? It’s just way, way too nice to stay indoors–or even behind the wheel of a car–if one can help it.