I've run longer and farther than I have before.
I love the look down the empty road, as I mentally calculate where I will be at the different time intervals. It beckons, entices; on the return my mailbox marks the end of my journey and alternately taunts and welcomes me.
I think more, I learn more in slow times when things aren't rushing madly by. When I must take things literally one step at a time.
Even when I feel exhaustion, I am feeling stronger for having pushed myself to that point.
There are little brown snails that venture onto the road in the morning. Tiny, their shells pearlescent in the morning sun, they creep across and leave shiny trails glinting as a map on the pavement. I never knew they were there before.
My legs tell me of hills that my car still doesn't know exist.
The smells vary as I cross the river, as I pass the hayfield. as I approach the stand of pines.
My body complains and thanks me at the same time.
I can do more than I thought if I just step out and try it.
I can do this.