Permit me to tell you something about myself. I like comfort. Not in the sense of plush luxury of gilded convenience.

I like to feel comfortable being me, absent of defect, inequity or to the obtuse qualities of the unfamiliar.

When I start training like this for triathlon, I fundamentally change. My inner runner at times feels lost, untouched by the power of weights, the swim, or the hammering hills on my bike.

But today I merely ran like I know how to. It felt so wonderful. Just what I’ve done, what I’ve become so accustomed to, absent the beast of multi-sport.

I missed it. The memories of running in the snow, the cold, the heat, the humidity, and yes, the air of cross country. I enjoy it more than any other pass time, with the possible exception of sleep.

I love comfort. And I love to remember how I attain it.