Joy.

I run at night for a few reasons, one of which is that I really don't want people watching me run.

I'm sure my form isn't the greatest. I tend to bend over a little bit when I get tired. My pace is off. Sometimes I have big strides; other times, it's almost as if I'm tiptoeing.

I did realize this evening, though: I run with a lot of joy.

I run faster through the fast songs. I hop over puddles. I splash through them sometimes. I giggle when I see my time, each one faster than the one before.

I know that to get out there and be able to run five miles without trouble is a blessing.

And a joy.

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Everything in my closet fits me: the 4s, the 6s. I also have all the bigger sizes still. I don't know what I'm going to do with them. I tossed everything last time, and look where that got me.

So I may keep them, as a talisman against gaining the weight back. Silly and stupid, but whatever works, right?