dear diary,

- a love story-

dear diary,

I miss my old friend running.

yesterday was an average morning at work; I felt sleepy mostly, and had a head full of boring strength training  and laundry folding to do when I got home-
but driving home, I listened to some Mumford & Sons.

that music is remarkable. I love it and feel the emotion in it, and it sparked something in me lovely and alive, and before I knew it I decided to go on a run. a trial run.
(it's been a couple of months since I was able to run. something in my ankle-area, which I'm trying to let heal)

I was nervous but recklessly hopeful.

this ankle is mysterious and not seeming to do much either way, healing or otherwise, and I am tired of squats and kicks and rollerblading laps around the lake while avoiding the duck poop on the walkway.
exercise is one thing completely separate from running, and I don't know how to compare the two.
exercise is counting the time you spend doing meaningless things to build your health and fitness.
running is pure bliss.

and it felt incredible. like something I could  do with my eyes closed, trotting along effortlessly.
like pure, happy freedom.
like seeing the world on foot, one untidy Savannah cobblestone at a time.

I listened to Mumford & Sons all the way. gosh, I never wanted to turn around.
my mood the rest of the day was the best I've felt in ages.
thomas and I laughed over videos and our own antics until we went to bed.

I felt so renewed, bathed in sweat like that.

the next morning something in my ankle hurt and I was crushed but hopeful to find someone to look at it and give me some real knowledge. none of this wait six weeks again stuff.

anyway diary, I have some fire about this and I'm not sure how to deal with it.
please forgive the romantic undertones to my running life. I can hardly help myself.
I know I don't have much wisdom regarding it. I want it back no matter what. but we'll see.

maybe, somehow, I am learning to sit still?