what you miss when not running

The thing I love about running is the perspective. Sure you see the cows munching and mawing on the side of the road as you rumble past in a car, but you don't notice the cute little black spot below the calf's eye or the swiftness in which the bunch gracefully lumber-leap to their hooves and dash-amble across the paddock as you approach the rough wooden fence.

Nor would you notice the crunchy gray skin of a decapitated and wholly flattened iguana, perfectly outlined in the dusty dirt of the coral-ly Cayman road.
It caught my eye (luckily not my foot) and I backtracked in the sweat inducing afternoon blaze to confirm my suspicions. He was probably just trying to get a touch of warmth into his scaly skin on the asphalt when wham...or perhaps he caught a ride on a cruise ship over from Belize where they drive on the right hand side of the road and he was simply confused and glanced to the left but not the right... regardless there he was. Is. An amazingly animated shell of what once had claws and blood and life.

The thing I love about running is that I can see my surroundings in manageable glances and feel my breath and slow my thoughts and hear my feet pounding on the sand or pavement or grass, a downbeat to the traffic or cows smelling of hay and earth or tiny blackbirds or waves crashing on the razor sharp rocks. The sweat drips off my reddening forehead and my arms pump higher the more tired I become. But I am moving and aching and feeling and happy.

Thankful for my legs and mind and the sun and iguanas and mewling cows and holes in the sidewalk that keep me vigilantly present.

Like the curry dripping from my fingertips this evening, savoring the spices speckled red on my knuckles, memories of the Ganges and deep pots of simmering vegetables, bidhi smoking Sadhus and rooftop restaurants. The flavors hot and biting linger on my tongue, on my fingers, tempting my eyes to shut and water, but every bite is an experience, every soft grain of rice appreciated. I am here.

Touch, listen, see, feel.

I am present.

Just like our iguana friend as he was...

OK, bad example.