This morning was a beautiful morning. The air was warm, the breeze was gentle, and the town was quiet. I didn't want to run. I got up, did my 1/2 mile warm up and came back to the house to see if DH was up and ready to go. He wasn't and I considered getting back in bed. I also considered the treadmill. But it was so nice outside, I didn't want to waste the opportunity to be in a calming atmosphere. It was perfect for shorts and a sweatshirt. I did get a little warm at the end but forced sweating is good for a non-sweater. I went without a phone, garmin, music, or watch. I went on a measured route so I wouldn't have to think about the time or the distance but could just think about the movement of the run. I paid attention to my breathing and my legs, to my back and my neck, to the tightness in my shoulder, and to the way I was holding my hands. I could hear my body because everything else was quiet.

Sometimes in the quiet of a run, you begin to hear things that you wouldn't have otherwise. I heard a hymn being sung. At first I thought maybe I was singing it or maybe it was being sung in my head but it was a real song. I glanced up in time to see the bicycle lady from a few days ago. She hadn't seen me so she was happily singing out loud. When she saw me, she stopped singing and I felt bad that I had interrupted her quiet morning. We both went on our way without speaking but in that non-existent conversation we spoke of the joy we both felt about being outside on a beautiful "quiet" morning. I was glad I ran this morning. I was proud that I hadn't gone back to bed. I am joyful that I was able to hear the silence of the day. I hope that peace stays with me and I hope you can find something beautiful about the day also.