I’m running along Spaight street, on the return half of my route. I just turned down the volume on my ipod because while the deafening songs are loud enough to mute the pain of my first run of 2010, I worry about permanent hearing damage. (Perhaps this is what it means to be in your 30s.) I can finally hear myself breathing again, and I am acutely aware of the heaviness of my body.
Don’t stop. Keep going. Don’t stop. Keep going. I don’t have the energy for other thoughts.
Until, suddenly, I STOP IMMEDIATELY. I look down at what lies in the snow at my feet with disbelief. Then, guilt. I look around to see who it could belong to and see no one. Just empty gray streets covered in white ice at dusk. I pick up the two $20 bills, pump my arms in the air, and then start running again.
I am grateful for my most lucrative run ever. What a way to kick off 2010.