High Times.

Sometime around the age of 18 months old,

you learn how to run.

And once you learn how to do that, you feel the need to run everywhere.

At all times.

You run to your mom.

You run away from your mom.

You see an open door, and that immediately signals,

‘RUN FASTER!!!”

You grow a little older.

When you see a pool deck,

you must run.

When you are in a hallway,

you must run.

On the playground and within 100 feet of another child?

You must race him.

Or her.

Once the racing is over, you must continue to run.

Until you are forced to go inside.

And even then,

you sprint to the door.

Nothing beats running.

Then you hit double digits.

The running slows down.

And

eventually

stops

altogether.

You become the anti-runner.

The only place you run is to the bathroom.

Then, you hit your twenties.

And thirties.

You have kids.

Your metabolism slows down.

You have a high school reunion coming up.

And you think,

I need to start running.

You get motivated.

Charge up your ipod.

Put on your shoes.

And head out the door.

You feel great.

Until you hit about the 1-minute mark.

And then you realize that running sucks.

You think about your runner friends who talk about that runner’s high.

And you want to punch them.

Well,

yesterday I had a Forrest Gump moment.

I started a little running (and walking club) a few weeks ago.

We’ve met for the last three Sundays at the high school here in town.

We have 2 routes that we’ve done so far; one is a 5k and the other is a 4 mile route.

Yesterday some of the ladies walked or ran the 5K route, and I ran the 4 mile route with another one of the girls.

When we are done with our routes, we wait in the parking lot for everyone to finish,

gab for a minute or two,

and then everyone goes on their way.

Yesterday one of the ladies went down to the track and ran another mile on her own. She might be catching the bug. (YAY!)

Anyway, it was beautiful outside.

Sunny.

Crisp.

Clear.

Quiet.

I put my headphones back on and continued my run.

I didn’t worry about the perfect motivational playlist.

I didn’t set my watch.

I just put my ipod on shuffle, and started running.

I felt awesome.

I listened to songs I hadn’t heard in years.

I saw things that I’ve never even noticed before.

Houses.

Gardens.

Views.

Some really beautiful things.

I ran another 5 miles.

I could have run another 20.

I ran 9 miles yesterday, and I felt great.

Nothing hurt.

That runner’s high.

I got it yesterday.

It’s totally real.

And 7 months ago, if you told me that going for a run would make every part of my body,

including my brain,

feel way better than smoking a big fatty,

well,

I would have said that YOU were high.

Getting to this point?

It was no picnic.

Actually, it pretty much fucking sucked.

But it was totally worth it.

Because now that I’m actually here,

it’s really,

REALLY

fucking awesome.

One step at a time, people.

No matter how slow or how fast,

one foot in front of the other,

and

one

step

at

a

time.

Day 1

 Day 215

Day 1

Day 215

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