It was still dark when we left the house. The cool morning air felt so good as we sped down the quiet streets. Push, push, push up those hills, fly, fly, fly down…this is our rhythm. We chat about everything under the sun and when we find other riders we stay with them, they have a light. Before the sun rises we spot lightning up north. We talk about how we hope that means rain for the day, our parched earth needs it so much.
As the sun begins to rise we realize we are already half way done. We bid farewell to our fellow riders (their 60 miles makes our 15 look like a walk in the park) and turn around. As we head home we talk about our upcoming race and how easy these miles feel. We get back to my house and park our bikes. Now it is time to run.
We have decided on a 5K – that is what our race will be. If we start now it will be easier on race day, right? This training called brick training about kills me. My legs feel like bricks and we eek out 2 miles only. But it’s okay. The exercise is not what I need that morning, it’s the talking.
She knows this week is not easy for me. She encourages me to keep going, work out that day, not to stuff my feelings with food. She listens and and as I cry, her tears mix with mine. We walk long after we are done running because I’m not done talking yet. She just keeps listening.
Our runs are so much more than runs. It is time for us to catch up and talk without any interruptions from our collective 9 children. It is our time for a mental break, to work out the frustrations in our lives. It is our time to share our joys, frustrations and plans.
I am so grateful I have found someone who will get up before dawn and hit the streets with me. Someone who will share her heart with me and is truly my best (running) friend.