Tones of Home
The cool weather doesn't feel so cool anymore as I head back out onto the trail for the last leg of my run.
The morning traffic buzzes by on my left and the sun begins to beat down just as I hit the three and half mile marker. Only a half-mile left I say to myself and raise the pace as I begin to ascend the hill, a slight 5 percent gradient which provides a nice change of pace from the flats.
I pass another late morning runner and we exchange the usual runner pleasantries. My finish line is just ahead, mile marker four, and I give it an extra kick to put me over the line in just under 40 minutes.
As I finish, a group of cyclists are making their way down Grove Road. One of the riders is wearing full Team Phonak regalia. I yell out "Go Floyd!", in reference to the winner of this years Tour de France and leader of Team Phonak, and chuckle to myself at my clever sense of humor. Then it dawns on me that perhaps the rider might not find it to be so funny.
I turn around but the paceline (and faux Floyd) are well down the road. There will be no runner/cyclist confrontation today.
I begin heading back down the asphalt path walking against the direction of traffic. My shirt is now off as I feel the warmth of the sun on my exposed, sweat laden skin. I take a swig from my water bottle, the cool liquid hitting the back of my throat, quenching my thirst.
I wonder to myself if the sense of accomplishment that I experience after each run will always be there. It's a good feeling and one that I hope not to lose.
During my cooldown, a million different thoughts go through my brain from what I'm going to do after my run, to more reflective and insightful thoughts around life and family. It's during this time that I come to realize just how really beautiful this morning is.
The sky is a deep, rich blue with puffy, white clouds on the periphery and the sun shining brightly. The air temparture is perfect. I cross over a wooden pedestrian bridge and hear the rushing water below and look out upon the pond that feeds it.
Well manicured, landscaped yards lie just off the path to my left and a grove of tall pine trees line the far side of the road creating a shade bank. A couple are out on their patio having breakfast, sharing conversation. Our eyes meet, they smile and we both wave.
I've never seen my neighborhood this way and then it dawns on me that I'm looking at it through the eyes of a visitor, as if I'm taking it all in for the first time. It's refreshing and a smile creeps across my face. For the first time I'm thrilled to call this place my home.
I walk through the door and head upstairs into the bedroom.
Nancy's just getting out the shower. "How was your run?", she asks.
"Excellent!" I reply.
"Excellent?" as if questioning that such an activity could ever be.
"Yes, in one word, excellent!"