New Morning

Things have been kind of strange since the marathon. The race was constantly on my mind and on my tongue while I was preparing for it, and when it was finally over I found myself asking, "What now?"

I had expected to be a medium shade of blue for awhile, but didn't realize how life had lost some of its spark until it came back...

I spent Saturday catching up some of the Guinness I'd missed out on, the protracted day beginning at a pub with the Aussie/Ireland rugby match and ending late with some friends and a cup of tea.

Sunday morning came quickly as work began at 9, but I rose early and went for a short run that ended at the kitchen's back entrance, (I keep extra clothes in the staff room.) The morning hadn't lost its bitter Irish winter freshness, but was unusually sunny and warm, perfect for a sunday morning run, or a sunday morning anything. I made my way up a hill to better see the sunrise and the city-rise, and jogged around a small, new cemetery, reading the names on the too large and polished gravestones before coming back down the hill and heading to the restaurant.

I feel refreshed and strong again, eager to find a new path to travel down.