Running in the Wind

It's late. Almost 11:30pm, and Glenn's been sleeping for at least an hour. The baby is down, and I'm alone with my thoughts again...thinking about r-e-s-p-o-n-s-i-b-i-l-i-t-y. Somedays, I wish I could dig a hole and live in it for about a week until I felt settled on the inside.
Ever get that feeling like you just want to run and run and run for miles without getting winded? Or, like you want to pick up and move away from your present life and start again? I've been dreaming about running a lot lately. Mostly, I just need air. I crave fresh breath in my lungs. I feel my feet pounding against the pavement, and my legs carry me farther and farther away from the shack. Away from worry and anxiety. Away from the cold. Away from small, confining spaces.

I set my eyes on the prize, the goal for which I called. I keep pressing on, because that's what I was made to do. Press on toward the prize. The prize...what is the prize that I'm pressing towards?
This one will require more thought.