For the last year or more I’ve wondered if I’m still a runner. I haven’t run very much and when I have it’s felt pretty awful. I didn’t enjoy it and it felt too difficult, both mentally and physically. I thought maybe I just wasn’t the runner I used to be, that maybe something had shifted in me and I needed to find something else. But recently Molly has started sleeping through the night the majority of the time (insert a happy dance, jazz hands, and all the heart-eye emojis here) and I’ve been running in the mornings again. It started with intervals – running 3 or 4 minutes, then walking for 1, and repeat. Then I switched to just ditching the intervals and running and one morning as I cruised through the miles I realized I’m enjoying this. Turns out when I’m not feeling as bone-deep tired, I really do still love running. I love the quiet mornings. I love the alone time and the breathing and pushing my legs and my lungs. I like feeling sweaty and that burst of energy that comes from tiring yourself out a bit. I’m looking forward to my morning runs again and enjoying the work. It feels a bit like getting some of myself back again.