I have been in quasi-overcast Chicago for a few days and decided to venture out this morning for a run on the lake front. I am visiting one of my oldest friends, and while he does the work thing I have set about filling my days. Now, Hyde Park, near the University of Chicago is not the most exciting of neighborhoods, though it does afford access to the lakefront and some of the most quality book shops around.
So, upon waking this morning, I donned my running gear, stuffed some cash and keys in my shorts and set out. It is warm here, but not stifling, and there was a nice breeze off of the lake. I walked over to an underpass and headed out when I got to the trail, and in a mile or so I was feeling my groove. Looking out over the expanse of Lake Michigan I felt a surge, a surge of expanding possibilities.
It has been a while since I have dedicated myself to running on my own. When I was training I would run for hours solo, and I enjoyed it, but I find now my motivation has been running dry. I fear facing my alone-ness out on the open road. But here, in Chicago, I ran, by myself, knowing no one around me, not even the terrain. And I'd like to say it was triumphant, inspiring, but in the end it was just a run, one I decided to cut short because of pesky knee pain (in the right knee this time).
I am glad I went though, even if it was short, even if it didn't make me feel like I could conquer the world, or just my little part of it. It reminded me that sometimes I need to just be. Just be and keep moving.