I. Am. A. Runner.

I am a runner.  

There- I said it... wrote it.  

I am not an athlete, I don't do it for a living.  I am not an Olympian- I'm not even that fast.  Not really.  But I am a runner.  

I am.  

I have been thinking about this a lot lately- because running does take its toll.  It asks a lot- 

But then so do I. 

We recently returned from a trip to France during which- no surprise- I ran.  Along country roads and some dirt tracks, through fragrant fields, I ran.  And it felt good.  Which came as something of a surprise given that just days before we left on holiday, I had landed in the urgent care with a shocking inability to get oxygen into my system.  

What I am calling 'Petite' Long Covid is a bitch.  

Me: post-Covid, post-road race, pre-Petit 
Long Covid.

A chest x-ray, some poking and prodding, and a forgotten corticosteroid inhaler later, we were off, angling to the north and an idyllic retreat with dear friends.  The drive was long and lovely but roughed up my already aching back.  (Context- before moving overseas I was delivered a diagnosis of trauma-induced scoliosis.  We need not meander down that road.  Suffice to say, my back hurts.  A lot and chronically). 

Still I ran. (Still I run).

As I ran loops around our friends' property, trying to make up my mileage, I noticed my times returning to their pre-Covid numbers.  I noticed my legs screamed less for air and a break  My body drank the country air and my being flew with it. 

--

I have asked so much of this body.  So much.  Both as a runner and as a human.  I have asked it to run and keep running through flus and RSVs and pneumonia and Covid; through pulls and sprains and strains.  Through rain and wind and chill and hot hot heat.  Through it all. 

I have asked it to bear a child, then to grow the potential for more children.  Then to bear again the pain of losing them. 

I have asked it to survive when I could not sustain it.  

I have asked it to come back over and over and over- to fight for itself physically when I could not do it mentally.     

And every single time- it has shown up. 

While I may have my issues with the human race in general, I have always found the human body t be the most incredible machine.  It takes what you give and gives back so much more.  And it shows up until it can't.  It's a beautiful, incredible machine.  Even mine- broken and abused as it is- even mine is a beautiful incredible machine.  

A machine that runs.