Missing the Run

I miss it. I miss running. I miss the routine of my training schedule. My week used to be measured by those 4 runs. I loved starting the week with the short quick run. I loved how fast I had become, and that free feeling of running downhill. I loved the comfortable pace of the midweek sorta long run. And I loved the short run again on Thursdays. I loved the achey, sore feeling after my weekend long run, and the peaceful slumber that followed the evening after. I loved the feeling of achievement I felt as my miles increased each and every week. There was a sense of accomplishment after each new, longer distance I could push past. I miss all of my running gear, and wince a little each time I step into my closet and see it all sitting there, folded on the shelf. I miss my running playlist, and the challenge of putting together new ones every so often. But most of all, I miss the peace and joy I felt when I ran. I just don't feel as balanced these days. I no longer have those hours out on the road with my thoughts and my prayers in my head. I don't make the time to sort through the things I should, because I was used to sorting them out while I ran. I miss the beautiful sunrises, and the serenity of the quiet mornings. And while I know this is temporary, and in a few months I'll be back out there, it doesn't make me miss it any less. I suppose I could revist the miserable runs, the 12 and 17 mile days that were really really difficult, and maybe remind myself that not every day had a perfect run. But even those I miss, because those were the days that taught me the most, and I found out just how hard I could push. And I'm wondering how tough it will be to get started again. But, on that day, I can take a look back at all that I've written, and all that I've learned, and hopefully look forward to a brand new start.