I run. Sort of.
No, I run really.
It started with my New Year’s list in 2013, I decided to participate in A Run for Their Life. I had my surgeries (except for the plastic surgery) and treatments here in my home town, but most of the doctors commuted from Upstate. I wanted to run a 5k and raise money for breast cancer research at this hospital. I am very grateful for the care I received, and I am very grateful to still be here. My plan was to train for this event, raise money, run it, then never run again.
I bought an app, some-wrap-around-your-ears ear buds, and a new pair of shoes. I followed the directions of the voice on the app. I ran through town, I ran by the river, I ran along the lake shore, I ran on the railroad tracks, I ran in the woods. I ran and ran and ran.
I became addicted. To the wind in my face. To the steady rhythm of putting one foot in front of the other. To noticing my surroundings. To the endorphins. To the improvement of my appearance. To new strength.