I hate to admit that I’m superstitious so when I say I’m, “back on track,” I do so with a rap on the wooden desk in front of me. My projective goal is to be trained for a half marathon coming up in November. This time however I’ve drug a friend into my sky-high goals and it’s become a lot easier to find the motivation to wake up early in the morning before my slate of classes.
Right now we’re enjoying a running trail which takes us through a serene landscape and masks the sounds of a waking college town. The brisk morning wind takes with it our grogginess and fills the empty space instead with an enthusiasm to greet passersby and chippering squirrels. Slowly the sun rises, but by that time our backs are to him and we’re on the last leg of our daily ritual.
We push to the end in a sprint to make up the couple of stops taken along the way. One last stretch concludes the exercise, so we part but plan on coming back, “day after next,” when another mile gets thrown on the tally.

