Running: Why I need to do more of it.

This morning I decided to go for a jog. I can't even remember the last time this urge struck me. Let's just say, it's been a while. Proof: When I went to go looking for my running shoes, I had to launch a whole-house reconnaissance mission.

But once I found them, and leashed up the dog, it felt good to hit the pavement again -- even if the forecast was calling for snow. I picked up my pace and decided to jog through the ritzier part of the neighborhood -- the streets where nobody cleans their own houses, and I suspect, meals are cooked by personal chefs. Why not check out the lifestyles of the rich and famous while getting some exercise, I reasoned?

The morning was perfect. Just me and the sidewalk -- not another human in sight. I could hear birds singing, trees swaying, and little bits of icy snow pellets hitting the ground. The lavish fountains of my more well-to-do neighbors were frozen solid, as were their front lawns, the ones that look like someone took a cuticle nipper to them.

After a few minutes, my lungs started to feel like they were frozen solid, too, so I slowed down my pace. I could see gratitude in Paisley's eyes (she's my overweight golden retriever). So I just kind of puttered along. And halfway into my morning trek, I realized that I hadn't thought of Carson -- my little boy -- once. I wasn't fretting that his daddy was feeding him inappropriate foods for babies (steak and cupcakes came to mind), nor was I worrying that he was missing me, falling down on the tile floor, or getting into the dog's water. My conscious, for the moment, was worry- and baby-free, and that felt so good.

I've always loved the idea of running. But sticking to a routine is the thing I have trouble with. Somehow, though, this morning's jog gave me the new found energy to try again.

P.S. Those cupcakes I mentioned were made by my friend Kristine: boston cream cupcake to be exact, and equally as delicious as they were sinful.