Not even a kernel of a run

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.

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