Last week I met with a running group that meets once a week downtown. It has an interesting format. Communication is done via Facebook as seems common these days. The route is published the evening before. It’s a four mile route and is an out and back, so if you do the total route, it’s eight miles.
The group was very casual. We met outside of a local pub and chit chatted a little before taking off. Everyone was pretty well on their own to go their own speed and distance. I was familiar with the area, as the route went through a neighborhood that I lived in many years ago. I decided to run to the elementary school that was across the house I used to live in and back. I was doing a run/walk as my ankle is still healing and went about two and a half miles.
I didn’t go far, and it wasn’t strenuous, but it felt really, really good. It felt good to be outside again and to be moving. I was reminded of how much I love running–that is once I got out there and got going.
Beforehand, I was dismayed. Here it was the middle of the week, and there was a city-wide marathon on Saturday. Most people in the group were running the marathon, some the half. One person had run a marathon the weekend before. All everyone talked about was how they were sick of running! One person even commented that he was considering quitting running after the marathon.
I never had the desire to run a marathon, and I certainly don’t now. I run for two reasons: (1) I love it, and (2) I need the exercise. I don’t ever want to be in a place where I don’t love running anymore. And, if that means not training for a marathon or any other event, I’m ok with that.
Not that I speak from want, for I have learned to be content in whatever
circumstances I am. Phil 4:11