A bit of pride, a bit of jealousy

My friends ran a 50-miler last weekend. Read Paul's recap here. I'm awed by that accomplishment. I don't know that 50 miles of running is something I ever need to do, but I don't like that I missed out on this running adventure.

I didn't just miss out either; my running right now is in another universe. They ran for 7 hours, I ran for 7 minutes. Other than Wildwood and bike commutes, I haven't really done any exercising since July. I would complain about my 7 minutes since it felt far from right, but I won't. Instead, I'll tell you about reaching for my shoes. Sometime in August, I took my running shoes out of the hallway and stored them high up in the closet. My black dress shoes that don't get out much go up in the closet. Today, even in the rain and the hint of a cold, I reached up into the closet and pulled down my dormant running shoes. They looked white and clean. They were firm and crisp, almost like new. As I gingerly brought them down, I had to push away high school cross country practices and recreational 5ks. I couldn't call up those memories today. Today I just had to put one foot in front of the other.

Today was another step on a long journey.