A gift

Last night was my company's Christmas party and much fun was had.

A little too much fun in my case.

Despite a strong urge to laze away the morning, I went ahead and roused myself and headed out.

I forgot my watch in my muddled state, but I did remember the (far more crucial) water.

The cold front moved on as quickly as it arrived and so I donned shorts again.

The late morning sun is now burning off the last of the mists which muffled most sounds as I ran. 

It was an awkward run. My left calf knotted up pretty early on and throbbed in time with my temples. I felt sloppy, disjointed, my stomach sour. I was glad I forgot my watch.

By the time I got to the turn around in the park, though, I was feeling - as I nearly always do - happy to have my feet moving, despite my blasted calf, aching head, and protesting stomach.

Running is a gift I can give to myself again and again.