There was a time in my life when I thought I just wasn't the kind of person who had passions. Eat, breathe, and sleep one thing? No way., sounds boring. Confining.
Then one day, my husband told me that I had a passion for running.
"Running isn't my passion."
"What happens when you're driving up a hill?"
"I think about pumping my arms and shortening my stride."
"What happens when someone tells you it's going to be a 10-minute wait?"
"I know that it's a little more than a mile to wait."
Silence.
"Oh."
Once I got used to the idea that I might, indeed, have a passion, I started thinking about other things I do:
- I can't imagine brushing my teeth—or foam rolling—without reading a book at the same time.
- When I'm sad, I almost immediately start writing a story about it in my head.
- I start panicking if I'm 20 pages away from the end of the book and don't have the next one checked out or bought.
- I keep my trips to D.C. straight by which long run I did which time.
- When I come across a beautiful sentence, I have to stop. And swoon.
And then I realized I had not one, but three passions. Running. Reading. Writing. I'm not bored. I don't feel confined. In fact, I've been thrilled to discover how many ways my passions collide.
And this is where Words and Miles begins.