The best run happened on Sunday.
…It didn’t matter how far we ran.
…Or that my lips were chapped (forgot the chapstick!).
…And I was thirsty because it was muggier than expected.
…Nor did I care that we got stopped on our return trek while the drawbridge went up to let a boat pass by.
What did matter?
…My legs were happy, happy, happy.
…My pace felt peppy.
…I got lost in my thoughts for miles and miles.
…I was in those moments. In the mile. In the run. In the rundate.
…All with the best running partner around.
It was the best run. And here’s #PROOF:
Those would be the rosy red cheeked sweaty faces of two very happy, very runners’ high-loving running fools.
It was the best run. Intentionally goal-less, aim-less. The perfect setting for us both to let our thoughts run wild, all while enjoying that “us” time. “Us” time which was so precious this weekend as I prepared for a week in California for work.
And now? As I sit here getting myself ready to head to the airport later this morning? I’m cherishing those moments from yesterday, revisiting the miles – sure – but really revisiting those special, quiet moments with Scott, mid-run.
…the best run.
(I’m already missing him and I haven’t even left yet. Sigh. Let’s just say that I’m *really* looking forward to that giant welcome-home hug on Thursday night. His face is the one I miss most of all. ❤ )