A few weeks ago, I had what I assumed was my last run. I felt okay while I was running, and wasn’t worried that anything was wrong for Baby Scone (or I wouldn’t have been running to begin with), but felt so much pelvic pressure, and felt so slow that it just wasn’t fun. I had to stop frequently and never really got into a rhythm. I was happy to have made it running off and on (more off at the end) for 37 weeks of pregnancy, and ready to take the longest running hiatus of my life as I waited for labor, delivery, and the necessary recovery time to come.
And then, yesterday morning, I went for a run. It was unseasonably warm. I’ve been on maternity leave long enough now that I’m getting a little antsy, and I just had this feeling that it would feel good, rather than painful, to run. And it did. I probably only ran about a mile, in five minute increments. But, I saw another runner out there, and felt some community with him (though since I was behind him the whole time, he didn’t see me or know about our running community bond). The high from the mile run lasted for hours. It was interesting to observe this because, I didn’t feel free, light, fast, or like I could run for ages, the feelings I usually associate with runs that give an hours-long high. I just felt like myself.