The Flesh is Willing

You'd think I ran a hundred miles.

Not because I'm tired — I'm not tired at all — but because I feel so good. I'd say four and a half miles never felt so good, but it almost always does.

Like most winters, I've not been running much, but the last few days have been clear and almost warm. Yesterday, I got feeling like getting out on the road a bit. I had limited time but went anyway, figuring even a couple miles might feel good. They sure did.

Before this week, I'd gone six and a half weeks not running. I've done the stairmaster, elliptical, and erg at the gym, but the Y won't allow me to run in huaraches or barefoot, so I don't run there.

After six and a half weeks, my body, overweight as it is, allowed me to comfortably run two miles yesterday and four and a half miles today around the neighborhood and through Morningside Trail. Back home, showered, having some lunch, my body feels great. Ready for more even. Wondrous!

I've been considering a long run this summer, thirty to fifty miles. Who knows if I'll do it, but for now the flesh is willing and that's enough to fill me with joy.