I laced up my running shoes again after taking a couple of weeks off to nurse a little injury. I'm surprised I could start again so soon and hope my ambition doesn't get the best of me. There was a sudden "POP!" and a hobble, and fire and loss of use and that sudden feeling of old that accompanies injury. I really hate it.
"Your body is trying to tell you something" a good friend offered as he shared his marathon training stories and weekly mileage.
"Said the preacher to the choir," I thought and kept to myself. Frustrated. Old.
I'd only just bought these shoes, my favorite kind that I buy year after year so I could throw my trashed ones out. I had just started having racing visions for the first time, but now....
Time will tell. Time and ice and perseverance and a whole lotta stretching beforehand. I'm just glad to be back out there on my trail.
My brain wakes up when I run. I write in my head as I go. Sometimes it is prayer. Yesterday, I asked for forgiveness, for the ways in which I am hurtful, yet do not see it. A good run.