Every Run is a Victory

I see you:

Running around the lake on your lunch break.

I see you pushing your running stroller at nap time.

I see you running alongside your kids who are reluctantly biking alongside you.

I see you in the early morning, I see you late at night.

You are out there.

Despite being tired, stressed — or because you’re tired and stressed.

Despite the weather, or because of good weather.

I see you.

You are making that 30 minutes, that 22 minutes, that 4 miles or 10, or that hour — yours.

You’re owning that time.

Because you need to re-center.

You need to breathe.

You need to feel something other than little hands grasping, hear something other than voices asking you questions or to escape relentless emails, you need to stop the worried voices in your own head, or your computer screen light staring at you, waiting for you to be productive.

You need to shake off the day, or the night.

Every run is a victory.

Agnostic. Cancer survivor. Divorce survivor. Proud single mom. Freelance designer + illustrator. Stubborn optimist. Finding my new path.

Agnostic. Cancer survivor. Divorce survivor. Proud single mom. Freelance designer + illustrator. Stubborn optimist. Finding my new path.