I'm not sure what my problem was this year. I always start running in the spring. But this year, I waited and waited and waited. Maybe it was the weather that was unseasonably cold or maybe it was my laziness--probably both. It wasn't until Bianca said she wanted to go running that I finally said yes. Then we started running together in the morning, the two of us, but I found myself always correcting her (relax your hands, breath in your nose, stop whining--why can't I just leave her alone?) and I realized I can't run with her. So I politely told her she should focus on getting ready in the mornings instead of running. I hope I don't regret this in the long run because I think exercise is so important--especially developing habits as children. But really, I'm a solo runner. I prefer it that way. Then I'm not feeling so much pressure to either keep up or slow down to run with a buddy; I can set my own pace. Plus, I hate talking while running (just ask my poor sister who loves to discuss all of life while running).
But there is one thing I do say while I'm running. Every time I pass another runner or biker or walker. It's "Morning." My dad used to say it when we would run together. He'd say it to every person who went by whether it was the first time or the twelfth. Some people are friendly back, some not. But I don't let it bother me; I'm too busy breathing in and out, in and out, willing my tired legs to just keep going. It's one small way I can keep the spirit of my father alive, keep him running, keep a running buddy by my side without having to worry about slowing anyone down.