I don’t know what came over me but last Monday I felt the urge to run (yes, you can consider this as proof that miracles do happen). Good thing there’s a park near work with a jogging path and I did one round of brisk walking, two rounds of running, and 2 rounds of brisk walking plus cool down–yeah, this person who used her gym membership no more than 10 times in three years.
Tuesday morning was hell with all the lactic acid coursing through my rarely challenged muscles but I knew I had to get back on the proverbial saddle again. This evening I laced up my pristine white running shoes and was psyching my self to run again but lo and behold it started to rain halfway to the park. The thought of putting this off to another day was so strong but I knew that I had to do this.
So I ran. I ran like crazy until the sweat mixed with the rain that ran down my face and made my eyes sting. I ran until I felt my lungs were going to burst and my legs were going to give way.
Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head was on repeat in my iPod the whole time and it just felt so right. I made the right decision.
(photo courtesy of brokenheartedrunner.com)