I tilt my head back gracefully, swan-like, and lift my arms high in the air. I bring one hand down and gently graze my arm with my fingers, then repeat the same movement with the other hand; over and over, in a languid, ballet-like dance.
I was a runner. WAS a runner. I ran in high school, three seasons every year (cross country, winter track, spring track). In college, I didn’t run for my D-I school but I ran with a girl in my freshman dorm, and we’d talk about our high school boyfriends as we jogged the streets surrounding our campus, trying to avoid … Read More