run, run, run, run, run. run-run, run, run

I am apparently much closer to completing a quarter marathon than first thought. Or so the Germans would have me believe...

And I've only been on this running trip for a month or so now - ever since I took those two inspiring barefoot runs by the Caribbean in the final days of our Costa Rica trip. Not that I never ran before this. Au contraire mon frère. Still, my trusty little iPhone app tells me I covered nine big ones in 50 minutes flat this afternoon. And that is a first ever for me. I really should have done the last kilometre just to say I reached my end-of-summer goal three weeks in, but there is always a little part of me that wants to save it for the next time. I tend to do that a lot, actually. Can't get too much of a good thing? Maybe.

Perhaps I am a natural runner and need to set my goals a little higher. Or maybe it was just a one-off and my body just excels in cold, rainy weather. Maybe Daft Punk helped a little. Hard to tell. At this point. I'm just happy to be out there circling greater Jarry Park, listening to my body and fighting my brain every step of the way. It's not quite meditation yet. My brain might soon realize that my body can go forever. And I'll go all Forest Gump on the world and run for years.

Stranger things have happened.