My past caught up to me one June morning – on the beach. She was a younger, paler version of myself and probably half my age. Her hair was red to my strawberry blond. She ran by in a similar-to-mine green Marshall T and a pair of black Nike running shorts.
She was running to my jog, her feet churning sand while mine were slogging it. And that’s ok. I am cool with it.
I pegged her at 21 to 23.  When I was her age, running on the beach would not have been on my day’s agenda (more like drinking and surfing). I am ok with that, too.
I am who I am. I was nursing a foot injury (still am, as I finish this post while I am hooked to the Tens unit at Select PT). Injuries are no fun. But injuries offer much-needed opportunities for reat, healing, reflection, and  goal reassessment.
I am learning to slow down, to take time, and to reconnect with who I am as a runner. And I am most definitely ok with that.