Nikki Yeager

My body is a runner, even when my lifestyle prevents it. This has never been more obvious than over the last week. With my lack of muscles, my skinny legs and my anemic complexion, I've decided to start pounding the pavement (in the literal sense) yet again. An unlikely runner, I took off down Chinatown roads well past 1 am in the 30 degree weather. It was freezing, my legs hurt, my head hurt... but I couldn't stop. I went well past my planned .5 mile run. Well past a 1 mile jog. I kept going, the pain building and my heart racing. Yet my legs wouldn't slow, my chest wouldn't cave in, my mind set a defiant goal against my previous plan of a short jog. 

And somewhere around mile two I hit euphoria. My legs kept going, my breathing slowed to a rhythmical beat and everything inside of me synced up with everything around me. That runner's high people talk about -it happened to an out of shape girl with crappy shoes and frozen fingers. It happened to me as it always has.

After a half mile of oblivion I became aware of ever little nuance in my form, the cadence of my movements. It was beautiful, it was love. How can anyone feel anything but amazement at a body with lean limbs meant to pump back and forth, a heart meant to supply oxygen to extremities despite heavy breathes and bones strong enough to hold a full grown woman trotting down Sixth Avenue? How can anyone resist awe at the human form? 

Since then I haven't been able to take a day off despite the seering pain in my leg muscles and inability to walk down stairs during the day.  Between runs I write my book and my ebook. I plan for the next year. I do business and I enjoy every minute of my day. After all, I have a capable body that can propel me through any workout and throughout any of life's little challenges. Why not put it to the task of enjoyment? 

Which is exactly what I do with my days - enjoy it all.