For a few steps or a whole mile, if I’m lucky, I disappear. I lose awareness of my body and I just am. Moving through space. Weightless. I stop imagining the food I’ll eat and the rest I crave when this is finally over and instead imagine never stopping, never wanting to.
When I run, I want to write. And I’m running, and I’m trying to find the voice, and the motivation, and the time. Jack was easy in some ways, he talked to me. Reese, for all her expressiveness, is holding her intentions a bit closer to the chest. She doesn’t really know herself yet.
If I had all the time in the world, what then?
Here are my last sentences from this past week:
- 3/3: Chrissa was the best like that.
- 3/4: Don’t worry about it.
- 3/5: This is why we should have a cat.
- 3/6: The dirt and I are becoming good friends.
- 3/7: This is what I do.
- 3/8: I charge up the hill again, trying to correct my form as Coach instructed.
- 3/9: I pick up the pace until I stumble into that wild magic again.
With Love,
Natalie