It's a sunny morning. I'm up for it. I'm thinking about fuel today as I need to avoid a stitch and don't want a grumbly tummy half as through so I munch 3 kiwis (nobody eats them in this house anyway, don't even know why I buy them!) and a round of toast with peanut butter. My little boy munches a few hundred strawberries and peanut butter on toast, then we head out to his preschool and my big scary 25min run.
I choose a really slow pace to begin with, and after a while start day dreaming till Laura chimes in with '5 mins now and you should have a settled pace' which I do strangely, faster than I start with but feels easy. Then Paul Simon comes on and I start thinking about my dad and the color run I'm doing for Northern Ireland hospice in August and all the reasons I started this. I started because I was running away from the terrible grief losing him last year brought me. Those early runs in November I would just be sobbing as I was following Laura with the sheer heart ache of what I've lost. But the running away has started to heal this heart, and the running is getting me towards my goal of the 5k color run in belfast, for big Bob, would would have been equally amazed and amused that his eldest daughter would dream of doing something like that. And it was a glorious feel good lolloping type of floaty run this morning, allowing me think for lots of day dreams. Dreams are what this is made of, so keep dreaming all my fellow c25ks, we'll get there in the end.