I ran out and then back and kept going this morning.
There’s something psychologically damaging about running past where you usually stop.
There’s something about running in the early morning daylight that helps you understand just how slowly your 56-year-old legs are taking you towards the point where you can stop, too.
I’ve been running again after a long layoff for about two weeks now, though, so I guess that it would make sense that I’d be taking it easy.
That “passing the point of stopping” is a hard thing to deal with.
Even if the mileage was cumulatively less than what I’d been doing, not stopping at my house felt harder somehow.
It’s all a mind game, though, this running stuff.
I need to get out on a trail where it’s harder to measure mileage.
Maybe that’s the secret?
Just get out in the woods and try not to get or stay lost?
Just run and not look at the mileage or clock.