About a year before I got pregnant, I started to really enjoy running. I'm not very fast, but I really like going out and just cruising around for a while to clear my head and wear me out a bit. I've finally been able to pick it back up again with some regularity and I really love it! Eli and I have rejoined our Morning Run group now that the weather is so pretty here in the ATL. Yesterday, we ran 4.5 miles together! Yay us! Then, as is our custom, the whole group headed for coffee.

I've posted comments from our run leader, Steve before, but here is another one about yesterday morning:

Little Eli York-Simmons was all smiles this morning. As we headed down to Centennial Olympic Park, he was having a ball taking in all the sights and sounds of dawn in Atlanta. The wind was in his face, and I could sense his excitement over the adventure he was on. You could see it in his eyes, absolutely wide-open, drinking in every experience we had along the way: the cars zooming by, the tall buildings all about, the colors of the banners at the park, the clacking of railcar wheels on the tracks, the conversations of the runners, the roar of the planes overhead, the pitter-patter of our steps, the clouds racing over the tops of the tallest buildings, the sudden pop of the runners' laughter, the bright orange cones that lined the street next to Underground, the shrill of the policeman's whistle, the yellow pollen running in the gutter, the constant whirling of stroller wheels, and the calm, reassuring voice of his mom, right there with him every step of the way. He could sense it all, I think: every move we made, every breath we took. It was all of a piece--maybe not all fully understood, maybe downright baffling at times--but the stuff of life (lots and lots of stuff) experienced in the midst of a community of friends.

Everything was new this morning. Not necessarily understood, but new, very, very new.

In time, maybe ole' Eli will sort it all out. Maybe he'll remember back to this morning and make sense of all he saw, heard, touched and felt. Maybe one day he'll write a reflection about it. Maybe one day he'll set it to music. Maybe one day he'll tell his kids about it. Maybe...

But you know, one thing I know 'ole Eli knew for sure about his morning, as God is my witness. He knew we was loved. How do I know that? Well, he told me with his eyes, and he smiled it all the way home.