I Miss My Tribe
I identify as a runner. Now, at the moment I don’t look the part but somewhere in there my inner runner is patiently waiting for all the non-runner bits to be removed so he can re-emerge. Have faith little buddy, I’m working on it.
I am down eleven pounds so far this year, so I feel like my weight loss strategy is working. Far superior to all of the other health benefits of attaining my body mass index goals, however, is the possibility of getting back on the road when the snow melts and the sun comes up some time before 9am. I know this is a laudable goal because I consume a lot of diet, health, and nutrition content, and a recurring theme is the significant benefits of regular exercise and going outside, even if only for a few minutes minutes a day. Well, I know how to do that!
Besides the sheer joy of running (just letting my freak flag fly here), it is one of the few activities where I will voluntarily co-mingle with my fellow humans. Whether it’s a 10k, 1/2 marathon, full marathon, or trail run, I become positively giddy at the prospect of forming up early in the morning, preferably with a slight chill in the air, surrounded by a few dozen to a few thousand of my fellow tribespeople and heading out onto the course.
Though the pandemic has made me even more of a recluse than I already was, I have come to realize that I miss my tribe. But I know they’re out there, waiting. And I know that, when the time comes, we will all meet at the starting line and head out into the early morning sun.
