As it always seems to happen, the threatening sky held off until I was a mile away from the homestead. At 35 degrees, the torrent that was unleashed started out as heavy sleet and freezing rain and slowly transitioned to a steady drizzle. It's times like these, when I'm outside during adverse conditions, that I feel the most human. Everything is stripped away from you, and you can feel your helplessness in the cold as it tightens your muscles. Every step becomes harder and the hills steeper.
However, this is also the time I feel the most invincible. While cars drive by me spraying me with castoff from their tires, I am the only human truly out in the elements. My feet move across the ground, my legs pulling and pushing them. My lungs burn with the cold air, supplying my body with oxygen necessary for locomotion. My legs turn red from their exposure to the ice and cold, but with all of this I continue moving. I don't turn around, I don't ask for a ride back. I'm enjoying myself.
Enjoying the sport is something that I had lost for a time. It took six months of waking up every day in hell to bring back my appreciation for it. Not only for running, but for life as a whole. Every single moment I missed out on. Morning coffee with my wife, taking the dog out in the woods, helping customers at the shop and every event, simple or grand, that I have not been here for.
When I wake up, I enjoy it. When I lace up and head out the door, I enjoy it. When I am given the opportunity to sleep in my own bed with my wife and two dogs crowding me out to the edge, I love and appreciate it.
For 27 weeks I was dead in that, in my absence, life continued without my input. Now that I've been given my second (third, really) birth, I waste as little as I can.
For the purposes of this topic, I'll keep the conversation focused on running. I find that there are no junk miles, I enjoy every single time I go out whether it be paved or dirt. I appreciate what I can make my body do and thank God for every opportunity I have to challenge myself. I am less concerned with the quantity and focus on the quality, and there is quality in every outing.
I speak from being on both sides of the grave. Everything and everyone I have is precious, and I am thankful for all of it, the great and the less so.
However, this is also the time I feel the most invincible. While cars drive by me spraying me with castoff from their tires, I am the only human truly out in the elements. My feet move across the ground, my legs pulling and pushing them. My lungs burn with the cold air, supplying my body with oxygen necessary for locomotion. My legs turn red from their exposure to the ice and cold, but with all of this I continue moving. I don't turn around, I don't ask for a ride back. I'm enjoying myself.
Enjoying the sport is something that I had lost for a time. It took six months of waking up every day in hell to bring back my appreciation for it. Not only for running, but for life as a whole. Every single moment I missed out on. Morning coffee with my wife, taking the dog out in the woods, helping customers at the shop and every event, simple or grand, that I have not been here for.
When I wake up, I enjoy it. When I lace up and head out the door, I enjoy it. When I am given the opportunity to sleep in my own bed with my wife and two dogs crowding me out to the edge, I love and appreciate it.
For 27 weeks I was dead in that, in my absence, life continued without my input. Now that I've been given my second (third, really) birth, I waste as little as I can.
For the purposes of this topic, I'll keep the conversation focused on running. I find that there are no junk miles, I enjoy every single time I go out whether it be paved or dirt. I appreciate what I can make my body do and thank God for every opportunity I have to challenge myself. I am less concerned with the quantity and focus on the quality, and there is quality in every outing.
I speak from being on both sides of the grave. Everything and everyone I have is precious, and I am thankful for all of it, the great and the less so.
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