After walking 3.4 miles in the Walk For MS, I decide that is not enough if I'm going to be in condition for the half marathon at the end of April. So I head back home to the greenway to put in a few more miles. After the first half mile, I decide I'm feeling pretty good and should add in some jogging to bump up the heart rate. Using the 1/4 mile markers on the trail as cues to jog, I try to jog for a quarter mile, then walk for a quarter mile.
The sky is incredibly clear and blue, and I feel great as I jog through the sunlit trees. On one side, a clear little steam cuts through grassy banks twinkling and sparkling in the sunlight. And on the other side, a glossy ebony calf runs along the fence line kicking up its heels, the picture of merriment. To top it all off the breeze blows pink redbud blossoms across the path, as if I'm running through a parade with confetti to celebrate my small victories.
I'm not sure exactly when or how exercise evolved from a chore into something I look forward to and enjoy. But somehow miraculously it has. Now when I have a hard time fitting a workout into the schedule, I am actually disappointed. I miss it. I WANT to do it.
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