If a Girl Runs Alone in the Dark....

Does it count as running??

Since my marathon in the spring, I have not been training. No track workouts. No weight lifting. No exercising for a goal.

And, now, with the crispness of fall in the mornings, I find my body aching to race again. To be fast. To push the limits. To be strong and hard.

Due to my two month pause since my last IVF cycle, my running has steadily returned. Not to my prior levels, but somewhere around 30-40 miles per week (OK, I don't know that I've run more than 35 because I haven't been keeping exact tabs, but I think I might be closer to 40 this week, if I am able to run once on the weekend).

In the beginning, my legs would scream after three miles. In fact, I even began to understand why people hate running. It hurts.

And, slowly, slowly, my legs felt stronger and could carry my body for longer distances.

I felt like a stabled horse, begging to be let free.

My old running friends (whom I no longer see or speak to, because, really, what would I have to say to them?) are kicking out PRs, 2:52 marathons, and here I sit. Soft and round. Aching to be them.

I should hold myself back...but, oh I miss it. Shhhh! Don't tell anyone but last Saturday I ran 10 miles. And loved every minute of it.