A first.

3 miles
11 trips up and down the art museum steps
40 pushups
90 crunches
45 dips
38 minutes.

This wasn't just a run and it wasn't a first. The palpable soreness I feel all over my body is a direct result of cross-training outside on the first ridiculously beautiful day the groundhog predicted  (screw you naysayers) and also not a first. The climb up and jog down the "up-down" path by the Art Museum Gazebo was a horrible idea placed in the middle of this cross-training rotation and, again, not a first.  

The last trip up the art museum steps, I went past the plateau with the fountain, which I'm positive is not nameless, and headed directly, albeit slowly and Terminator-esqu, for the pillars and up 15 more steps.  This view, Philadelphia Runners, is worth the extra 50 yards. Sheltered by the art museum itself, I watched a city, quieted by distance and a setting sun, and breathed in and out slowly, savoring that moment; that first.

From the top of those steps, anything seems possible; everything conquerable.  After a workout that beat me up and 15 pushups, 1 mile and about 14 minutes left to go, that moment on top of those steps underneath the roof and next to the pillars carried me through to the end.

When I push myself to climb, hike, lift or fight again, I'll think back on that moment, refocus and smile.  Fellow runners will catch my eye at those moments, smile back, and understand.

I kicked ass today.