I went to the track tonight, for the first time in over five years. Not any track though. This isn’t your standard run of the mill high school track. It’s a half mile loop. It’s a cinder like track, dirt, crushed rock, a bit of sand. It was wet in parts from where they watered the grass that it runs through. Your feet make a unique sound as they push off on this track. The coolness of the night, the darkness mixed with the lights.
There is a group here in town, The Workout Group, that meets twice a week. I forgot how much fun intervals can be when you’ve got a group your running in. The occasional elbow bump, the changes in breathing as the interval goes on or the pace picks up. The sound your feet make on the dirt as you charge through the turns multiplied by four. It was pure bliss, even in it’s agony.
I know why I’ve forsaken the track over the years but I’m going back. Heading to the dark side, going back to my running roots. At least once a week until it gets too hot, I’m going back for the joy of it, for the pain it brings and for the fun I found in it. Who knows, maybe I’ll recapture some of that lost speed as well.