The glee bubbled up the moment my Hoka-clad foot hit the sand.
It always does when I get to be where the water meets the earth.
And this time I had the whole, glorious beach to myself.
I took a tentative step north, and then another, and, then I ran.
I use the word “run” generously here. It was more of a lopsided lope, but I have not enjoyed that motion in nearly a year.
A bad left knee sidelined me from serious running several years ago and I miss everything about it — the rhythm of my breath, the salt left behind on my skin by all that well-earned sweat, the motion of my arms, the helpful flex of my biceps, the endorphins.
I enjoy other forms of exercise, especially circuit training and yoga, but none as much as running.
On an early, low-tide morning in Florida, I felt giddy as I hit my mark and then turned to run into the sun on the way back.
My knee issues and my age have foisted a language on me I thought reserved for a much older human. I have to use words like orthotics now and probable arthritis.
I rarely mention brands here but my Hoka shoes have given me back a lot of what I thought I had lost.
They’ve been a gift to me and I now give them as gifts to other people.
I’m heading back to Wisconsin today, and I’m thrilled to be bringing back some sand in my shoes and some pep in my step.
I know the water will be frozen there and the beaches hidden under lots of snow so I took every opportunity I could to soak in the sun while I was here.
Seasons and sunsets pass quickly on this old earth and I intend to enjoy each one.
