Polar bears and sore muscles

Running at 6 a.m. is an interesting idea.  Especially when no one is making you and you do it just for the sake of feeling awake and alive.  Runing never loses it's magic for me, no matter how many times I try to break up with it.  There is just something wonderful about it that makes me take it back.  The way the legs and lungs work together, in combination with muscles and bones and joints and all reasons i wanted to do medicine in the first place.  There is harmony in the exertion, and i love it.  I loved it today more than most.  Perhaps it was running alongside a good friend and recalling an endeavor that took place almost a year ago.  I have done quite a bit of running, but in my mind i think running will always make me think of hlp.  Running and ranting, running in the rain, running with a stress fracture, running to check something off the list, running for exercise, running to catch up, running to rant some more.  So now it is 12, and I've been up since 5, and I know I'll crash later, but for now i am just content to regard my achy legs with a smile and no small amount of pride. After all, these suckers consistently carried me 3.1 miles this morning, not even counting every day of my life.   

I think i would label this feeling: content.