Twas a dark and wet night for a13 km run, or 12.8 km, depending who you ask. We ran from Fir and Broadway, along 10th, climbing to Cambie and 49th, street. Despite the insidious climb, the run felt pretty good.

Pace was controlled, as our trusty clinic leader, managed to reign us in for the most part. As I ran along Angus, a gust of wind blew, and the uneven pavement was illuminated only by headlamps, I felt that everything was right, just for the moment. It’s been awhile since I’ve felt that way.

At times, we ran in a pack, at times, alone, I could hear footfalls, and measured breaths beside me.. Last night’s adventure even included an owl attack on a friend. Yep, her shrieks could be heard a block away.

Slowly, I am gaining motivation for Boston in April. These training runs have provided refuge and a haven from the busyness of life, the non – stop noise that seems to be constantly in my head. Running is the one place where the day doesn’t intrude, where everything falls away and the noise, if not diminished, at least subsides, Partly because I’m focussed on trying not to trip with each footfall. After all, my headlamp, seems to illuminate an area the size of a quarter, directly in front of me. But also, partly because when I’m running, I’m able to let go, I’m doing what I’m supposed to do. Post run, my sore muscles, flushed cheeks, and tired legs, remind me that I’m alive, that I’ve actually exerted myself, and I’m in a different headspace.

I’m not there yet, but maybe when April comes, I will actually feel truly ready to tackle Boston, whatever that may mean.

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