Shade and breezes and bending light. Morning behind a cool front that has cleared it all away: the tension, the smothering heat, the crushing humidity, the doubt, the questions.
Today, all I feel is almost nothing at all. My feet turn the earth beneath me like it is on ball bearings. The ground whispers by. I am running but I might as well be riding a bicycle with no chain. It is effortless.
Time stops. Or maybe all of time is now. Mile 16 is just as easy as mile 8 and as easy as mile four and feels like it would go on no matter how far over the horizon I ran following the rising sun. And all the while, my feet whisper -- swish swish swish swish -- at 180 steps per minute.
Back straight, body light, held aloft by something that defies gravity. I don't need to push myself because I am being pulled along.
I have been wondering how one makes it 140.6 miles to an Ironman finish line. I always do. How am I going to drag myself all day long and into the night.
Perhaps I won't have to. Perhaps I'll be pulled along.