I think I had forgotten why I liked running, fallen out of love with it of sorts. It wasn't always a love/hate relationship; certainly something that I have had seasons with but for the last 2 years it has been a very strong passion and push. Until mid-May when I ran my first 25k, the big dog, the race I have hoped to run since I was 15.
After that day, I kind of hit a wall with running. It became something I should do, rather than something that gave me life in doing. So I took baby steps back, flirting with it and then finally giving it it's proper "dear john" and giving up my place in the half-marathon we do every fall.
But this morning, something unique happened as I ran through the Chicago streets of Emily & Dennis' neighborhood. I remembered why I loved it, before the training charts and the stopwatches, the timing my miles and thinking about paces. For a few miles I floated down the sidewalks, watching traffic and other pedestrians, in my happy place. And remembered why I love running and hope to keep it that way.