I ran

The title for my post sums it up, but it wasn't easy.
Running used to be at the core of my existence. I made time for it and I always enjoyed it. But over the last few years I lost any passion for it. There are many reasons why, but suffice to say I need to regain that passion.
For some reason, this morning I woke up early - basically I couldn't sleep. I got up and did a little web surfing, but then asked myself why I wasn't taking the opportunity to go for a run. Besides fear of not being able to and looking ridiculous
trying to run, I had no other excuses. It wasn't raining, not too hot or cold, so I committed myself to getting out the door.
And I was excited about doing it.
I did not dread or fear it as I did previously. I simply laced up my shoes, stretched my very sore, tight muscles in my legs and headed down the street.
I wish I could say it was just that effortless for the rest of my run, but it wasn't by a long shot. My pace seemed easy enough at first, but I barely made it to the end of the street when my lungs were saying, "Okay, jokes over. Are you trying to kill us?!"
I kept going, panting to get as much oxygen as I could. I kept going without thinking about anything, only hearing the sound of the birds chirping, my breathing and my heavy foot falls.
By the end of my run, my breathing was still loud, but more rhythmic (not by much), I was plodding more than running and I think I scared all the birds away, at least I didn't hear them any more.
So I survived.
I only ran 2 miles, but that was 2 miles more than I've run in a long time.
I ran.