The downhill

I’m a creature of habit, a lover of the routine.

Wake up, drink my tea, eat my Nugo bar, morning devotionals and then my miles on the treadmill.

On the weekends the girls are gone I log those miles on the long, winding, country roads around my house.

This past Sunday I woke up with my mind ready to run but my body telling a different story.

In reality much of the last 7 months have found my body and my mind speaking different languages. One running injury after another have plagued me. This month’s injury had me out for 7 days (well really only 5 but no one other than my doctor is counting).

My body was silently revolting against my routine.

Mind over matter eventually won out and my feet hit the pavement on Sunday.

But the rebellion had set in and felt a deep longing to change-up the routine.

So off I went heading north instead of south, deciding to run my usual 5 mile loop in the opposite direction.

Crazy I know.

1.5 miles in and I discovered there were hills on my regular route I didn’t know existed.

All those miles logged and I had not known that part of the course I was running was a gradual downhill? Now running the course backwards turned those previously easy strides into head down, leaning in, long and gradual uphill ascent.

Over the next miles I continued to feel astounded by what I had not known but was clearly always there.

Why didn’t I turn around more to acknowledge the hills (both up and down) I had been running?

How much of the last year had I been coasting and not realized it?

And there my friends is why I run.

Us runners, given enough miles to think it through, can turn any moment into a life lesson.

 

 

 

 

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