I don’t know if it was the much-needed weekend break for my muscles or if it was the long car ride back from St. Louis, but when I went for my run tonight after we got home, I zipped through it at my fastest pace yet! (Well, one second per mile slower than I was on July 10th, but who’s counting?)

I find this whole running thing to be fascinatingly strange for me. I have never been a “runner”. I loved playing volleyball in J.H. and H.S., but hated the sprints, the stairs, the drills, and the training. I stayed far away from any kind of track and field sports and stuck instead to volleyball and piano. The first time I ever started enjoying running was last summer when I actually made it to 3.5 miles several times! It was a sort of high for me. Summer turned to winter and I let that high go because it just wasn’t worth it. (Plus, I hate running on treadmills so the gym didn’t work for me as far as the running aspect goes.) This summer, I’ve taken it up again and I have a love/hate relationship with it. Somedays I love the feeling of running and somedays I love the feeling of stretching out and knowing that I finished running. Regardless, I have a huge appreciation for runners now and I also am realizing what it means to “feel healthy”. It just plain feels good to run. I love it.

Coming up very, very soon: recap on our St. Louis trip.

Peace, sidewalks, and bottled water.