Freedom.

The week after the Broad Street Run: Flying without a net (workout regimen).  There was an "I just kicked major ass" attitude in the air, no workout blocks to check off my calendar and a wide open schedule to fill with whatever distances I wanted.  This is my freedom.

On Tuesday, I eased back into running with 45 minutes, slowly down Walnut.  It wasn't as painful as I'd imagined; the stretching on Market Street was slow and deliberate afterward and the sun came up just the same way it always did, suddenly and overwhelming in its announcement.  Later in the week came 6 miles through Penn at a decent pace, full of hurt.  This was a mental run.  My body was healed but unwilling to move and my mind needed to be smacked around a bit.  54 minutes later I'd made it through to the path by the river and back to the office - 6 miles, every step mental.  Saturday was a 5k in Ridley Creek State Park that I raced - yes raced, not just ran, raced.  In between, there was a Wrestler's Nightmare and 100 reps on the bench and a lot more stretching.

Finally, there was today.  10 miles through Old City, over the Ben Franklin Bridge and down the Camden Waterfront to the USS New Jersey.  It was new, spontaneous and off the grid.  I was just going in the direction I wanted to go.  The air was that of the shore and so were the seagulls.  The path by the River was a few beams short of a boardwalk and the benches reminded me of high school tempo runs timed out by similar landmarks.  Over there I was anonymous - just another runner looking for her path.  I know that I will keep this particular run hidden away for just this kind of a day - slow, steady and all mine.