it's strange to run through your childhood neighborhood...so very strange. this morning, i headed out for a few miles around my childhood home. i was laughing to myself at how strange it felt - catching myself passing another runner and returning their greeting with a "ciao, i mean, good mornin!", being overwhelmed with the heavy scent of honeysuckles (not the jasmine that i am used to from Italy), taking in long glances at big beautiful magnolia trees, and smiling at the few squirrels who scurried along next to me.
everything felt different, the air in my lungs, the pavement under my feet, the hills (omg, i forgot how many hills there are around here), the jet-lag and lack of sleep my body is pushing through - but the sunshine, the familiarity (and yet not in so many ways), the tunes in my ears, and the wash of nostalgia, all fueled the few miles i hoped to clock to get my day off to a good start.
