I run for stress. I run for joy. I run for health. I run for good legs.
When it is done, I plop on the floor and push up off the ground with my ape arms, over and over, feeling strong, like I am getting ready for the Army fitness test. Like I can do anything I put my mind to.
The finale is stretches and yoga and water and washing my face with a terry green washcloth, before descending the stairs to my tiny car waiting in the lot.
How many years have I been doing this fitness regime for sanity and strength?
When I run, ideas flourish. I discover answers to life’s worries. It is like dreaming awake. It releases me from past and present pains. Anxiety dissipates. I feel used up and alive when I'm done. The runner’s high is authentic for me.
Seasonally I drop off. Running becomes a victim of a time crunch or laziness. But it always finds its way back into my heart. Free therapy for the soul and the body.