I knew last night that I wanted to run this morning. I’ve been playing around with starting back up again but I keep talking myself out of it. I was at my best two years ago and it took a lot of work to get there. These days I mostly don’t make it out the door because I dread the dread. The dread of running too slow, the dread of thinking the pain will return, the dread of sucking wind. Yet on this only sleep-in morning of my week, I set the alarm and headed out before my house even started to think about rising. I laced up and told myself to just enjoy…the smells, the air, the birds. I did not run for time, I did not run for distance, I did not even run consistently. I moved a little faster when it felt good (the downhills and flats) and I moved a little slower when the pavement had a rise in it. I remembered what it used to be like and I remembered why I started and I remembered the joy of early morning runs. I remembered it all…and I’m pretty sure I’m back.