There I was running on the track, thus making good use of the time between YaYa’s soccer pictures and game time. I hadn’t planned it. As such, I wasn’t fully equipped for the task. Since these moments seem rare, I was not going to let it go by without a try – jog bra or not.
It seemed to be working out. Perhaps, others would disagree with me but I wasn’t aware of any odd stares as I circled round the track. I listened to some music and took in my surroundings as I went.
I ran behind a young women. Watching her wave to her son in the play area with each lap, I could easily reminisce over my past experiences doing the same. I suppose that motherhood and running has it’s own stages of development.
After a bit, the mom and I were passed by a young man in black and red shorts. He didn’t appear to be going very fast so I did my best to keep up with him. I lost him for a bit, but then lapped him after he had stopped to walk the final lap of his 1-mile run. He was not impressed.
Onward I ran. In my next lap, I passed a young women with shoulders which were beautifully sculpted to a level of fitness I could not help but admire. I was now running with a completely different set of people. It seemed strange to me as I was still working on my 3rd mile. My music urged me to keep going and, as I ran, I took in more of the sights around me.