I've never been a runner. I never could keep up with those running alongside me nor could I push myself to go the extra step. This year, though, I've changed that.
When the Christmas break came to an end in January, I promised myself I'd exercise as much as I could. In doing that, I've picked up running. Though jogging on the treadmill gives me a sense of satisfaction when I see how many miles I've gone, how many calories I've burned, and the like, running outside does something different; something better.
Yesterday, for the first time in my entire life, I ran outside for a half-an-hour straight. Normally, walking the path I chose to run would take me an hour.
On the treadmill, I can go for an hour at a time, but this weekend I just took in the change of season; the change in me.
Feeling the sun on my face, the sweat on my back, and my legs moving one after the other had me in this place where no one could touch me or stop me. It was just me and the bright sky, taking in our surroundings.
Today, I did the same. I laced up my running shoes, slapped on a sports bra, and took to explore the springtime air with gentle speed and a passion for something new.
I didn't care how fast I was going or how bad I was sweating. Instead, I challenged myself with each step. I ran up two of the highest hills in my area, not stopping once. I kept my steady pace while humming to the beat of the track playing from my iPod.
These runs reminded me of summer: The glory the sun and the wind can give, the ease at which the clouds slowly move in the blue sky, and how fulfilled I felt once the runs came to an end.
I've changed a lot since summer's past, in more ways than one, but taking up a new-found love for running has given me motivation to do a lot more. I never thought I could do it, yet here I am.