The sun was starting to come up and I could feel the morning, thick with humidity, gather on my skin. My feet kept hitting the pavement, in time with my stride and the music playing in my head. With each breath I felt more and more alive. Connected. Connected to the space and world around me. Running house by house, I inhaled the smell of grass and blooming flowers. That was mid last week on my morning run... what a contrast to Sunday.
Late Saturday I started to feel the rumblings of a horrible headache, which evolved into a full blown migraine by Sunday morning. So much so that I went to bed before 9 in the hopes I would feel better before the ten mile race on Sunday. Not a fast runner, I just go for the experience. Running for me is a time to rediscover myself, the world around me, and to observe everything around me-including other runners during races. Running is one of those sports where population is so varied that you are bound to see all types of runners from the sixty something runner wearing his thread barren running shorts and sweaty headband, to beauty queen racer whose runny makeup almost gives her a clownlike appearance by the end of the race.
Waking up Sunday morning I could barely open my eyes. Stumbling into the bathroom at 5 am I was bathed in the bright lights and did a fantastic vampire impersonation as I buried my face into the crook of my arm. Not good. Sooo not good. But I had to run that day. Why? I am just now figuring that out.
