I went out for a run today. I was cooped up in the house all morning, and thought it was sunny outside. You know, because Florida is the sunshine state (Florida does rain like no other place I’ve been). I loved it. It felt good. The green and gray background reminded me so much of Ireland, and so I had a smile on my face. I was moving, yet I was in the same exact place. There is no big destination in the near future right now, no thought of packing or getting vacation days at work. My mind is in the swing of a routine mixed with happy-dreams-in-the-making.
The rain got stronger, and I let my hair hang down. It was refreshing and soothing, cooling and gentle. It cleaned out all serious thoughts in my head. There was a sense of excitement (inhale) but without the rush (exhale). All these projects lining up (inhale), all these dreams taking shape (exhale). I loved getting back in the swing of putting one foot in front of the other, and feeling the tingling of blood circulating as I picked up the pace.
I remembered the highlight of my week: her face got red; her eyes were teary, shiny. I began to wipe the rolling tears off my cheeks. A gasp for air. We laughed uncontrollably. A 20-year gap between us. All the things I have seen in 25 years, and all she’s known in 5. Only we knew what could possibly be so funny. And it was. Crying never felt so good.
It was not a very long run, and nothing exciting happened. As my jacket began to stick to my arms, and my long wet hair stuck to my head, I laughed. Drivers passing by may have wondered what was funny. I thought, “I am running in the rain with my hair down. All I need is a kiss and I’m in a Nicholas Sparks novel.”
My mundane life became central in the story. There have been plot twists and set backs in the past few months (read *in the past 25 years I’ve lived*). But right now, through this cooling rain, I was happy to be running at a steady pace again.
With love for all things simple,