I know better than to want to be the runner that I used to be. I can’t go back there as the road lies ahead and not behind. The old miles offer fresh hope and so I begin again.
I remember the easy miles. And, vivid pre-dawn encounters with skunks, racoons, rabbits, deer, porcupines, coyotes, snowplows and log trucks. I can smell the rain coming. I feel the unrelenting sting of a nor’easter. I recognize the collective weight of wet March flakes, slush, and blisters and chaffing and cramps and squirts.
Hindsight is a wonderful thing.
3 days ago