It's funny how you can appreciate something so much, but at the same time take it totally for granted -- having no idea how valuable of a thing it is in your life. Having no idea just how much you expect it to be there when you want it to be there.
I've been running for most of my life. And I have taken some pretty substantial breaks. Ummm, hello, I used pregnancy as an excuse to discover what it would feel like to totally pamper myself. And what kind of mother would I be if I just abandoned my baby at the first opportunity. So naturally, I stopped running for the 4.5 (consecutive) years I was pregnant and/or breastfeeding.
But mostly I ran. A lot.
And then I'd take a break, for oh, I don't know, say, winter. Or I'd get sick and almost die (I promise I'm only being a little dramatic).
Then BOOM. The weather is tolerable. And I'm off and running.
Until I'm not. And I'm not. But it's because I can't. Like Can. Not. Run.
Which sucks. I was just gearing up for my the running season on the lakefront. I have signed up for several races: The C4 Miler, The Cinqo de Miler, I Heart Momma, The Run for Boston 5K, and a couple of half marathons.
I took my running for granted. I thought it would always be there for me. And it really sucks to wait around for my running to decide that it is coming back. I'm trying to keep myself busy with school work and online shopping and what-not, but it just isn't the same.
My running is probably pretty annoyed that I just assumed it was something I could always depend on. Maybe it wanted a little more from me. Maybe it feels a little unappreciated. Who knows. It's running so it can't tell me.
But I promise, if my running comes back to me, I'll appreciate it and understand how precious of a gift it is. Isn't that what we all want, anyhow?
So, Run Along Now.