Maybe it's because I ate almost the entire pan of strawberry-rhubarb pie yesterday... but I decided to run home from dropping Jemma off at school today instead of taking the subway or the bus. (That way I'd be sure to get some exercise instead of leaving it to chance to see if I end up at the gym at some point- which, if I wait until afternoon, usually doesn't happen...)
I don't like running. But I couldn't ask for a prettier route. The section of Riverside Park between where we live and Jemma's school is one of my favorite parts of the city. It runs along the Hudson River, and is shaded by enormous old trees... This morning was especially beautiful - and just cool enough that I knew I'd be grateful that I wasn't wearing a jacket once I started running. (Of course, with me it's really more of a jog, interspersed with periods of power-walking...)
Once I hit the park I found I was actually enjoying myself... And I wondered why I don't do this more often.
Then up ahead I noticed a man practicing a martial-arts routine. His movements were fluid, yet precise. And I remembered that I had seen him many times before as we passed by in the bus on the way to school. There is beauty in the way he performs his morning ritual with such commitment and grace that you can't help but recognize.
As I approached him he finished his routine, and the final move was a deep bow. I ran past... but as I did I felt my spirit pause and bow back to him.
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