Unless you count chasing two tornado-like whirlwind kids around a pick-your-own farm’s apple orchards and pumpkin patches for 3 hours, I did not run once this weekend.
Not a sniff. Not a crumb. Not a kernel.
I am feeling a tad guilty about it and a tad empty because of it.
Running really fills my soul with time to myself. It gives me perspective and an hour of deep breathing. I feel closer to my town, this landscape, the earth when I run.
Not running leaves me wanting. Missing out on a run makes me feel like I’ve missed a party that everyone else is invited to.
Not running leaves me feeling like an unharvested field. Full of sustenance but left fallow, empty.
Gotta get out there tomorrow. Re-plant the run seed. Reap the bountiful benefits.