I ran. For the first time in 21 months. I had all but given up the idea of running anymore, and I was really ok with the whole thing, but this last round of surgery ad especially physical therapy was so successful that I started thinking…maybe…
So I waited til I was feeling rather strong, I bought new shoes (Hoka One One, I’m now a believer…) and last night I set out with the idea of running at least two miles but with a stretch goal of three.
I ended up having to do the run-walk-run thing, but I did finish 3 miles. It wasn’t my cardio conditioning that let me down, my right knee was hurting a bit, as I would have expected it to, and my quads were saying “dude…this is the roughest pedaling you’ve ever done…”.
The main thing is that I enjoyed it. A lot. I’m cautiously optimistic that I will be able to make it a part of my routine again, and for that I am exceedingly pleased. I’ve always enjoyed running, but hated the process of running. I really enjoy the freedom, and the simplicity compared to the bike, but I hated the way it felt to get to a point where I was well enough conditioned that ever run wasn’t a test of survival. For a large part of my life, running five to ten miles a day was a very normal thing. It’s hard to be a paratrooper and not a runner you know. Once I injured my hip the first time, I started falling behind the curve, and like when you lose the wheel of a faster rider in a race you just start falling further and further behind until you just accept that you’re not going to make it back into the group. Thats very much what it felt like, and then adding to it my subsequent injuries that made it effectively impossible to run until they were surgically repaired, it was just one of things I put on the shelf with the rest of the “can’t do it anymore” things.
Anyway, it was one run, and it was slow, but I enjoyed it, and I’m actually looking forward to the next one, and I haven’t said that in a very long time.