Sometimes you just have to return to your roots.
After Wednesday’s pretty darn awful run, I was discouraged about my running. I got home from dropping the kids off at school and decided I really needed to hydrate (it was still warm and humid). By the time I finished my nuun, I realized it was raining outside. Now, that would ruin some people’s day. Not mine. I was giddy like a school girl on her first date to the movies.
I quickly grabbed a pair of Vibrams (yeah, I admit it, that’s as barefoot as I’m going to run in my urban neighborhood) and headed out the door. No Garmin, no cell phone, only a watch ’cause I needed to be home by a certain time.
I just ran. Slowly. Comfortably. Wherever I wanted.
Rain dripped off my ponytail and I was sopping wet when I got home, but honestly I don’t think I was any wetter than I was after my humid run the day before.
Once upon a time, before I discovered races and training, all of my runs were like this. I ran because I wanted to and I liked to and it made me happy.
Running “barefoot” and “naked” in the rain? Yeah, that made me happy!