Are you meant to exercise over Easter? Sometimes I can be discouraged by the feel of autumn in the air and wuss out. Tomorrow, I think, as I snuggle into my slippers and bathrobe. It’s such a lovely holiday, the Easter long weekend, and my first one home in eight years was even more so. Family, friends, yummy desserts and Easter Monday takeaway. Long walks, longer talks, crisp sunshine, bright cool nights.
But I still awoke on Sunday morning far earlier than I intended owing to the extra hour we gained as we abandoned daylight saving. Usually I love this day, and consider the sleep-in the only good thing about winter. This year I didn’t even get that and by 8.30am while Gregory was still sleeping soundly, the ants in my pants were busy indeed. So off I went, listening to my favourite running album and running my new favourite route. Easter is about renewal, and that’s certainly how I feel living back in my old stomping grounds. Everything has changed but it’s all still the same. I’m still me, my family is still mine, Sydney still has bad public transport. And yet, I’m now the me with my husband, we are our own family, an off-shoot from whence we came and the buses I catch seem to be running on time.
The passages of time slip by with great excitement and yet also great mundanity.
This is the glory of life. And I pondered it while I ran.