Early morning wake up, sun streaming all around. A thought turned to action. Familiar clothes put on again, music in the ears and slowly I walk out of the door. Feet that have been still for too long remember how to dance as I head down the road. A year and a half absence and still my body knows what to do.
The Indigo Girls start me off, Martyn Joseph helps me up the hill, Green Day send me pounding down the other side, Paul Simon sets my pace for the long road home. The lungs try and remember how to breathe, the stitch is avoided as I suck air deep and still the feet move in their old rhythm again.
Today is hot, the park is deep vibrant green, the roads empty, the bins overflowing as yesterday’s picnics turns to seagull food for today. Now I start to hurt, muscles that have been dormant try to complain but my feet move on, my arms sway and the old grin plays over my face. This pain is good, this effort feels wonderful, these streets which I ran along for so long welcome me back.
Old men staggering from the night before stare in confusion, other runners make eye contact and we grimace at each other, I keep running. I keep running. I keep running. In these breathless moments life is found and my head clears. I am me. I am here. I run. I am. I breathe.
Red faced and panting I open the door to home. Another part of the jigsaw of me has been taken down from the shelf and fitted into this new life. I hug my boy to my sweaty face and am glad.