First post, new blog: Setting the scene

For the past two years, I've been a "streak runner," covering a mile or more every day with my now 10-year-old son, Tim. Well, we haven't actually run together every day, but we both ran every day. Our first year, from August 15, 2007 - August 15, 2008, we ran together all but five of those days. The second year, August 16, 1008 - August 15, 2009, we ran together about 75% of the time, but occasionally he'd opt to go out for his run when I was busy doing something else, or one or the other of us would be away from home for a day or two and run on our own, or I'd want to do a longer run than he did so I'd head out on my own. In late June, he spent five days at a baseball tournament in Cooperstown, New York, while I attended a writers' conference in Colorado. With his dad keeping an eye on things, he ran a mile around the baseball stadium every day; I ran on the bike paths of Aspen. That was the longest stretch we've run separately.

But when we reached our second anniversary of streak running earlier this month, Tim decided to retire his streak for the time being. It was a sensible decision. He took on the challenge of daily jogging when he was eight years old and no one really thought he could (or would) do it for a year, but we both persevered. And he hung in there for a second year. But now he's ready to try not being a streak runner for a little while. And that makes sense too. Since the time we began running, he's become a far more serious baseball player, he's discovered several new series of books, he started taking trumpet lessons, he made some new friends, he became a stronger swimmer, he developed a passion for ping-pong, badminton and pool. Things change, especially at that age. Sticking with the running would have been impressive on the one hand and a little bit unnerving to watch on the other. I'm happy he was able to make this choice.

But I'm continuing my streak, and I'm now at Day 748. Running alone is a big change after the past two years, and as much as I loved the challenge of heading out with Tim most days, I have to admit that I love running alone, and that having experienced tandem running for two years, I have come to believe that running is truly a solitary sport. It is, after all, one reason I started running, back in college: to get away from everyone. It's the reason I've made time for it so often during 17 years of marriage and almost 11 years of parenthood: for the solitude.

Running with Tim was rewarding in its own way -- the lessons it taught me inspired me to write a memoir about the experience -- but there sure was a lot of discussion and commotion: "What time do you want to go?" "What route do you want to do?" "What time do you need to be back?" "Wait, I need a drink of water." "Wait, I need a clean pair of socks." "Do you know where my iPod is?" "Are we bringing the dog?" "Where's the leash?" And on and on.

Now it's like it used to be. I slip out the door into a cone of solitude. I listen to NPR podcasts and either engage with the topic or use it as white noise while my mind wanders: to articles I'm on deadline for; to books I'm reading; to upcoming events I'm looking forward to or dreading. Running as an act of mind-clearing meditation. It's good to be back.