Today I went to the gym with the intent to run fast and quick. Because that's what I do now, and because I took yesterday off. However, I wasn't as strong as I was a couple days ago, I suspect due to Krispy Kreme incident at work this morning. Some thoughtless turd brought a box into work. I had woken up hungry, and before I knew it two of those damn things were in my stomach. So, not exactly the best fuel for running fast and quick, that's all I'm sayin.
Some days when I'm at the gym at lunch I see this petite aging Asian woman walking around the indoor track. She's walking with a lot of assistance from a younger asian woman, probably a caretaker/daughter. Each day, they complete a few slow laps while I run on the treadmill, and we leave about the same time. My guess is she's a stroke victim and this is part of her rehab. She never looks unhappy, this woman. She never seems frustrated. She just walks. Its what she can do to strengthen and honor her body.
So today, as I was pushing myself and watching this pair, I found myself profoundly grateful. That I have the gift of being able to push my body to its limits. That I experience the privelege of pain from a strong workout. That I can be gentle and forgiving of myself when I'm not as strong as I want to be.
3 miles
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