I tied my shoes, adjusting the sneakers until they pressed snugly around my feet. I stood and hurried out the door. The sneakers hugged my feet. I put a slight bounce in my walk, testing my legs for aches or sleepiness. They were ready.
I set up a podcast, checked the distance I’d already logged on the day. My finger hovered over the stopwatch as I approached the turn in the sidewalk.
Then I hit it, the slightly darker square of concrete. To me, it looked green. Go!
I leaped into my first few strides. My legs quivered, eager to stretch out. Not yet. I started slow, let the blood rush through me as my heart rate increased. Once my breathing evened out I set my legs loose, letting them fall into a smooth, easy stride. It was more like floating than flying, floating on the strength of my legs, the powerful, reliable muscles in my thighs. I let them carry me along and fell into the strong embrace of my legs.
Perhaps this was the day I wouldn’t stop. Perhaps this was the day I’d run forever.