Last night at run club my friend Sean let me know, in no uncertain terms, that our second mile was 7:01. Way too fast. Way not necessary. I couldn’t really hear him as I was keeping pace with the rhythm I was setting with the thumping of my old shoes on the river walk in the city. I just kept going.
The city was being, not only washed, but scrubbed, by the downpour of the rain that was swirling down from the clouds hovering over the skyline. The temperature was perfect. The sun was staying behind the clouds, and it was a good day to run fast.
When it’s a good day to run fast, I think you should run fast. That’s my non-scientific, been-running-a-long-time, running advice. A runner always wants to think we’ll see another one (good day to run fast), but then again, when has anyone ever been guaranteed anything in life? And so I did. Plans and schedules can always be modified and a runnerly life, too infrequently, aligns as nicely as it was for me on my first run back in the city with my Downtown Detroit Runners and Walkers.
It was the perfect welcome back to the D run.
So, this morning when I rolled out of bed, laced up in the dark, ran in the breaking through of the sunrise, was a good morning to run slow. I took in the cool morning air as the final twinkles shot out from the stars nearly ready to fade. My legs were happy to be shaken out a little, because today was a good day to run slow.
But today isn’t yesterday and yesterday, was a good day to run fast.
Groovy Girls Go………..Running it Day by Day