So, I was complaining to Triboomer yesterday on the instant messenger about missing multisport training while I am sorting out my neck owie. All I can do is run. I guess I should not be surprised, but my complaints often come back to bite me and teach me something.
This morning was another run. But it was perfect. Simple and perfect. One friend, one me, two runners, and perfect company. No heartrate monitor. I even forgot to start my stopwatch. Ten miles from Memorial Park through River Oaks and back.
Ten miles of perfect calm and darkness.
Ten miles of running as fast or as easy as the moment required.
Ten miles of conversation.
Ten miles of listening.
Ten miles of being listened to.
Ten miles of just plain fun.
Ten miles in which there was nothing else that I would rather be doing. That is a rare gift to receive from a friend, and hopefully to have given a friend in return.
Nothing complicated. Nothing fancy. Just ten simple miles.
"How simple and frugal a thing is happiness: a glass of wine, a roast chestnut, a wretched brazier, the sound of the sea . . . " I would add, a morning run with a friend. "All that is required to feel that here and now is happiness is a simple, frugal heart."
Nikos Kazantkzakis, Zorba the Greek, ch. 7 (1946).