The sound of the feet on the gravel was so loud to my ears and yet everyone else was oblivious to the runner. As I sat eating tacos with my mom at the new taco truck situated next to the path I normally ran on, I was reminded again of how I missed running. I had run on the path countless times. Back and forth, back and forth. Once during a 16 mile run with my Saturday run group, I came to a walk on this same part of the path as it was a foot under water due to the endless downpour. But the 16 mile run was scheduled for the day & could not be postponed. It’s funny how as a runner you create unforgettable memories between your feet and a path. And today how I missed the running terribly. I know I will return to running once my Mom gets more situated and in a safe place. Once that occurs, I will be able to safely leave her to run on this very same path I am sitting next to. I never imagined my marathon training would be used in the recent way I am using it, patiently enduring the painful paths sometimes we all have to take on the run we know as life. This too cannot be rescheduled. And so I run with patience. But it’s a difference race than I had planned. But a race,a path, that is drawing me closer to, and loving, running even more than I could have imagined.