The First Mile

Today, i ran a mile.  I feel good. 

It's something that i'd been looking forward to with equal parts excitement and trepidation ever since the unfortunate incident that injured my left knee a little over a month ago. 

The past 30 days have been eye-opening.  I didn't realize how important running was to me until i was suddenly, violently forced to stop it.  Aside from the persistent limp, my body was strangely alien.  I felt bloated and heavy.  My sleep was erratic and my mood mildly depressed (too depressed to blog about it, even).  The worst part came when weather started to warm up: once i saw more people running along the sidewalks i could do nothing but burn up with envy and frustration.  But there is an endpoint, and at least my injury was minor, requiring no surgical intervention.  Despite the difficulty i had to endure, it was temporary; i can only imagine the horror people go through when the functio laesa is permanent.  

Everything was nice and familiar: the gentle rhythmic tapping of the soles of my Mizunos hitting the pavement, the steady thumping of my heartbeat to the pleasant exertion, the quickening of my breath as i picked up the pace.  For an admittedly non-athletic person (with a body full of "factory defects" as i jokingly refer to my shortcomings), it feels good get "back in the groove," or - more accurately - to actually have a groove to get back to.  Now i won't be able to do the upcoming 25K Riverbank Run, but perchance i'll be up to the 10K. 

Things are definitely looking up.  When i started my run, the sky was a solid wall of cloudy gray.  Somewhere towards the end, the sun peeked through and started to bathe me in its warm glow.  It felt perfect: a cool relaxing run on a sunny afternoon.  It was as if Nature itself was trying to tell me: No need to worry, everything's going to be all right.