The woods are still open. The trail is still open, at least for me.

I sometimes think that injury happens so that I can remember that I do want to run. When training volume peaks and running is a slog and lacing up is a chore, there’s a low grade sense of dread around workouts. Over 12 or 16 weeks of training, this feeling is inevitable.

The trick is to find my way to I get to. I get to run. I get to run because I am healthy and because I chose to sign up for this race. I don’t have to; I get to.

This reframe can go a long way, but it’s not omnipotent. There have been moments when the only way from I’d rather not run to I’d really like to go for a run is by, well, not being able to run. Occasionally, running has to be taken off the table to find my back to eagerly hitting the trail.

My runs the past couple of days have been fully soaked in I get to. I’ve only been out of the house for these 30 or so minutes a day. The demand on my body and the burning of my lungs and the stretching of my legs feels like such a radical, freewheeling act when the call of the day is to hoard and hunker down. 

Today I went for a run because I get to.

(Photo by ON MY BLUE JEANS on Unsplash)