Return

It was cool - as cool as the end of July in Houston can be. 78 degrees. It was partly sunny. I decided on a visor to shade my face but no sunglasses. I wanted to allow the sun to do its thing on my eyes and give my brain what it needs. Today I needed to be outside. I needed to be back where all this started, this injury. Funny, the very place where I overdid is the place where I will gradually get back to me. I miss running so much. Today I went for a walk.

I took no music, no watch, no phone.

Without the distraction of sound or time:

I saw a plane flying overhead and advertising signs on its sign. I wonder if he sold any.

I noticed workers sawing and hammering in a new restaurant on Richmond. I also paid better attention to several little shops on Ferndale. On my list to check out.

As I kept moving, I became less aware of my manmade surroundings and more aware of that feeling of connection. I was, once again, connecting with the earth. I could sense each footfall. I felt it all the way up my spine. I passed trees and I wanted to touch them. I did. I reached out and felt the bark. I let my fingers hit leaves and palm fronds. I stopped for a moment and stood, letting the breeze hit me.

Moving past the River Oaks Apartments and the fountains I laughed out loud as I found myself wishing for a penny so I could make a wish. Instead I sat on the marble edge and plunged my hand into the water for a moment, closing my eyes. When I stood I was met by a man I guessed to be homeless. He was holding an open can of peaches in one hand and a plastic spoon in the other. We exchanged "good mornings" and I kept walking.

Three miles. I'm glad to be back. I'm rolling a frozen water bottle under my foot as I type this. I'm also thinking a donation of at least a case of canned peaches to the food bank is in order.