We had two great days last week, sunny days where the temperature spiked into the 60s and threatened 70. Days where you drive with the windows open, days where the sun sets and you don't instantly shiver, days where the birds sing and the frogs croak and the earth is soft under your feet.
Spring, ladies and gentlemen, may finally be here.
And as I drove past the pond the other day, watching the bright sunlight play off the water, I missed running.
All winter long, my fitness has dropped -- I've eaten worse, my exercise has slowed (as in, working out every 2 weeks), and I've often been down about the results. But having a pregnant wife makes for a great excuse, and so does having lots of work in the house. After all, nailing up bead board for a few hours is exercise, isn't it?
While I've missed feeling healthy, I haven't missed it enough for it to drive me into making lifestyle changes. But I miss running. I don't necessarily miss eating salads for lunch and saying no when someone brings in cookies to work, but I miss knowing that I can run out my front door, past that pond, on a three-mile journey that connects me with nature and reality in a way that nothing else I do can.
I don't need to be a marathoner, but I think I need to be a runner.