Not crapping my pants.
My breath. (Not my breathing.)
My heart. (Not my heart rate.)
The breath-taking throng of human tenacity surrounding me and how amazing it is to be part of it.
How much I love the streets I'm running on.
How lucky I am to live in this city, in this decade, in this season.
In this body.
How this body used to belong to a sad girl who didn't know she could run.
How this girl knows her body can fucking FLY.
How I should slow down and look up.
How I should enjoy the view.
How lucky I am.
Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.