The kind that came spontaneously.
Now it's the kind that's not only planned, but dreaded. I have to organize a run with myself. Schedule it through work, school and the sluggishness that comes with hips and responsibility.
Ah. the of a cardio of adulthood. Now it's bearing a cross for three miles of shin splints and fallen arches.
What happened to cardio that just HAPPENED. Through back yards and across ditches and after the make-believe. It didn't have to be organized: all girl, all boy, co-ed, 5k, 8k, two hand touch, spin, zumba, butts and guts.
I want to run to the neighbor's in hopes of a friend being home, bang on the door until their mom (not boyfriend) answers. And then just PLAY. Play until daylight decides you're out of time, or until someone's pride gets hurt and goes home, leaving us all enthralled with a drama we don't understand yet.
Where the cold burning of your esophagus fuels you instead of slowing you down.
I miss the feeling of being absolutely exhausted and still finding the will to run to base.
I miss the cardio of childhood.
