Running...no really

I suppose I should mention running this week. My schedule, as per my imaginary friend and coach, is 3ish/3ish/3ish/5-6. With an hour+ of tap.

I'm already behind schedule.

I had a rough, emotional, tear-filled talk with my imaginary friend/coach last night, on topics unrelated to running which left me sobbing and wasted. I still had to run, even though I'd not gotten out the door and it was nearing 8pm. I figured I was too slow and too late to get in 3, so I'd run as much as I could, and just make up what I didn't get done today.

I started out on my short 'hood loop, which is a mere 1.3 miles, although I can add to it by looping back around or just running it again. Since it was so late and getting dark, it was my best option. I took Miss P with me, who'd been dancing around me for 2 hours in anticipation of our run. I'd gotten into my running clothes at 6 and she knows what that means. The phone call and subsequent heart wrenching, gut wrenching crying were unanticipated and threw off my schedule.

I forgot my watch. I glanced at the clock on my way out, but I wasn't sure what time it really was when I started running. I figured I'd just run.

And run I did. I ran. I ran like I've never run before, my feet were beating beneath me, my legs were churning and I was flying. I ran that way for nearly 2 miles, having looped around and retraced my steps. I could have run more, but it had fallen dark and I needed to get home.

Another friend told me to get outside and run, to ease my mind and my soul; to help me put in perspective what's on my mind. I told him, I generally have one thought when I run: "how much longer do I need to go?"

Last night, the one thought I had in my mind was: "how much longer can I go?"

I stopped running when I did because it was dark and it was late, but I knew, I could have gone on.