::Running Shoe Love Letters::

  It's dark. I can hear the rain crashing into the asphalt outside. She's stirring. She's hit the snooze twice but I think she will be up soon. I sit up straighter hoping that she will be unable to resist me. The automatic coffee maker just started and I can smell hints of chocolate and caramel. She loves that stuff. She has a cup before she even looks at me. She has her running clothes and reflective gear sitting on the table awaiting her. I watch as she tests out the head lamp. But, I am still sitting here by the door. Waiting patiently of course. She's walked past me twice and hasn't even looked at me...is she going to change her mind? I know sometimes, when she is feeling really low, she gets ready for her run...everything ready to go, but me. And then, after staring at me for a few minutes, she turns off all of the lights and crawls wearily back into bed. I hear her sigh. I know she will regret not utilizing me this morning. It will fill her every thought in every minute of the day. If something bad happens...she will think to herself "I should've ran this morning." She will feel like her clothes don't fit right and like she doesn't fit into her own skin. She will second guess her every decision. She will be uptight and irritable... All because she skipped her time with me. But, that doesn't happen often. Usually, I smell the coffee first and then 5 minutes later her alarm goes off. Sometimes, she even wears her running gear to bed...so that she doesn't have to worry about it that morning. She stumbles into the kitchen and retrieves her coffee. I know she might be talking herself out of our visit. No matter what she does though... she can't help but look at me. In the end, she knows the comfort that I will provide and that I will always be there. Anytime with her is better than none at all.

     Finally, she gathers me up and we head out. I can feel her heavy breathing and concrete legs. She's struggling to warm up. It's colder than usual this morning. She had a fitful night of sleep...and this is her solace. I will be here for her in any way that I can be. I don't know that anyone knows her as well as I do. You see... we've shared so many miles together. I've felt the wiggle of her toes after the climb of a hill. I've heard every F bomb she's uncharacteristically dropped due to the difficulty of the climb. I've felt her sob when no one was around on a dark trail and heard her laugh out loud in front of strangers. And as snow sprinkled heavily from the sky...I caught her putting her hands out as if to savor each frozen flake. I was the first one she turned to after her parents couldn't take care of her anymore and the first one she turned to when she was looking for freedom from her demons. However, I was also able to see her cry tears of joy when she reached the top of Mt. Chinidere and Munra Point. A tall feat for someone so scared of heights. I was there when she completed her first mile and her first Ultra. I was there the day she fell and broke her arm and I was there where when she was covered in fog and the dear ran out right in front of her. My girl is so much stronger than she thinks she is. The day after mouth surgery, I talked her into a 16 miler on her favorite home trail. She ran 20 instead. Sometimes, she laughs after she hits 10 miles because, at one point in her life....1 mile was torturous. I saw her when she got sick at 1 mile after years of not spending time together. And, I even get to debut on her Instagram on really messy muddy days. There hasn't been much that I have missed. I love our time together even though she is sometimes reckless with gravity and can be heavy with emotion. She throws me into unseen tree roots and slips me across wet mossy rocks. She trips and falls and runs into things. Makes me laugh when she jumps over a puddle and ends up in the middle of it. She doesn't mean to. I know that. I am probably the only one who finds her clumsiness endearing. Plus, I don't like it when I am all that clean anyway...but don't tell her that.

 If you were to ask me about her I would say.... She loves to take the hard way up the mountain and she enjoys running in the mud and splashing in the puddles. She loves the pull of gravity when speeding down hill, because it's the closest to flying she will ever get... And that she actually likes it when her socks get wet...just so she can enjoy the feeling of being warm and dry later.  Maybe it's because she missed out on the child like puddle jumping, when she was little. I wasn't there much for her during that time in her life. She didn't let me. She spent little time with me then. I can't blame her...she was barely breathing sitting still...let alone spending time with me. I do have a memory though when she was 8. She got off of the school bus and it was pouring down rain. She took me in her hands and then she ran thru the puddles and torrential downpour barefoot, all the way home. That was fun...and I didn't even have to get soaked, but I got to be there with her. Even though life changes so frequently, I know that SHE knows I will always be here. I will be there for the quick 3 miler before work or the 8 miler after work. I will be there for the 16 miler thru the forest or to the top of the heights she is so scared of. I will join her for stair repeats at Mt. Tabor and snow shoeing at Mirror Lake. As long as she is willing to skip the snooze button, I will be there waiting by the door for her to snatch me up and take me on an adventure. I don't want to miss each unsteady step or fierce climb. I don't want to miss anything. No judgement ever...no criticism for the way she dealt with the day before or the irrational feelings she can't contain. Just like she longs to be free, my laces itch to be tied and can't wait to hit the trail,, road, or god forbid...the treadmill. Because, in the end....we are in this together.