and the old years blow back like a wind that i catch in my hair

Yesterday I went for a run. Not a long run, not a fast run, but still. I ran. I ran because I have grown tired of walking, and because June was at home with Chris, and because I just wanted to see if I still could. If I still knew how. I had planned on running to the end of the road but then I got to the end and felt like I could keep going, so I turned around and ran back. When I started to get tired I thought about how great it would be to tell Chris that I had run, that I had run the whole way. The idea of telling her kept me going. It kept me going the same way it kept me going all those years ago when I ran twelve miles for the first time and then burst into my apartment where I knew Chris would be waiting for me. If memory serves we didn’t sleep much that night either, although it wasn’t a baby that was keeping us awake.

It is good to be back in this body again and I am glad that it has not forgotten how to run. But most of all, I am glad that I am still running home to her.

*The title of this post is from Lucille Clifton’s poem”i am running into a new year.”