Rhythm

My big success of the week was running 12 miles. Not all at once, but in two mile increments every day before work. It wasn’t much, but it was progress.

I had a long debate with myself about it after my alarm went off on Tuesday morning . Five-thirty felt  very early and more sleep sounded nice. I think when I came to Virginia my internal clock stayed on Mountain time. My ten to eleven o’clock Utah bedtime turned into a midnight or one a.m. bedtime here. And my five o’clock Utah mornings turned into six to eight o’clock Virginia mornings, depending on how much homework I had left. I probably sat in bed debating for 30 minutes on Tuesday before I finally got up to run.

Later in the week, I was wishing I was it better shape so I could go farther. I like variety; and although the neighborhood here is green and very pretty, there aren’t many different options for a two mile run. (That’s one of the hidden benefit of the Salt Lake City grid system: so many different directions to go.) I feel silly driving somewhere just to run (not to mention it takes more time), which left me with limited directional options. But, I tied my shoes and ran the same trail again.

And it felt good. I was missing my early mornings.

And, in a way, I was missing myself. The last few weeks have felt like learning how to live again, how to be me. It’s as if I’m finally getting in sync with myself after the disruption of moving and the attendant jumble of all my reference points one year ago. Like I’m finally getting back into my own rhythm.

So, I’m going to keep running in the morning. And hopefully that will help keep me in a good rhythm when school starts in a few weeks.

This is the duck gang that hangs out at the local lake.
I found them going for a walk as I ran by one morning.

I might have inadvertently changed their plans. After
I took a picture, they turned around and left the street.
When I came by again on my way home, they were close
to the path, milling about as if they were trying not to
look too interested in crossing the street to the forest
on the other side.