Notes
There is something addictive about running now. It keeps pulling me out of bed, calling me to throw my feet forward, one step at a time. Endorphines? Maybe. Goals? Certainly. Feeling just a bit stronger each day? I think so. The fact that I'm losing weight, and my body is looking better? Yes.
But when I start that first hill heading out of camp I don't want to do anything but go back to bed. Somewhere out there, just past the halfway point, you realize that you are enjoying this, even with the pain and burning thighs. You realize that you can probably push yourself just a bit harder than the last time. And, you wonder "If I add just one more mile, can I do it, or will my body give up?"
So far it hasn't. And this morning it did not. Seven miles. And at the end, I didn't feel that much different than if I would have run 5. And another beautiful morning, too. Makes me worry about winter.