I don’t think I could of started Spring Break off any better. I got up around 7, talked with my dad for a little bit and then hit the road for a run. I chugged along for 8.65 miles, in 1:26, which is a slower pace for me. I started in downtown Woodburn and ran to the back roads, up and over I-5, along the neatly sorted rows of orchards and vineyards. The sun was still fairly low in the sky barely obscured by the light clouds, my initial feelings of being cold had worn off by the first mile. I don’t think I came across five cars as I stomped the soft shoulder. All the songs that played were good ones, usually of a faster tempo so I at least feel like I’m running faster. I rounded back into Woodburn and got my usual feeling of I could of or should have gone further. When I walked back into the house, everyone was up and talking. Really, it was just a perfect and peaceful beginning to the day and the break.
As much as I’ve resisted the feeling, running has become special. I always thought that people who professed an undying love and need for running were nuts. Well, maybe I’m nus but either way I love running. I get that cliche feeling of being at peace, especially when I’ve just run without an aim or a specific direction. When I strand myself in the middle of nowhere and have to make my way back, no matter how far I’ve already gone. It kind of sets me right for the day.
I’m very thankful for being able to find what I can do, even after running for so many months now, I’m still amazed at what I can push my body to do. It wasn’t long ago that four loops around the track was an overexertion unto itself, now I’m disappointed if a run is shorter than 5 miles. Even as my mom has said about her own running, I’m thankful that I have this chance and I relish every moment, every hill, every step and find myself disappointed when I’ve come to the end. But there’s always tomorrow to lace up for.