I’ve couched it as taking a break after doing two half marathons in the space of four months, but if I’m being honest, I was afraid of running. The pain I experienced at the end of the Dark Side half kept rearing its head, and even my doctor telling me nothing was wrong didn’t make me trust my leg any more. So I’ve done nothing more strenuous than brisk walking for the last month and a half.
And I’ve felt kind of crappy about it. Not that I was breaking any records or anything, but I was doing half marathons. Thirteen miles! That was nothing to sneeze at. And yet here I was back to what I was doing when I first started trying to lose weight. I knew it wasn’t really a step backwards, but it felt like it.
Well, today I finally had enough of it. I got home from work and resolved to get out there and do my intervals again. Maybe not the best idea considering it was in the upper 80s with the typical Florida humidity, but inspiration is rarely a rational beast. I didn’t do much, just two miles, partly due to the heat and partly not to push things too much.
And my leg didn’t hurt.
What’s more, it felt good. After all this time off, I didn’t feel tired or sore or winded. My pace was actually pretty decent. And not once did I think, “Eh, that’s good enough, I can stop.” I made myself finish. Okay, we’re not talking some Olympic caliber inspirational story here, but hey, it’s all I’ve got.
So now it’s time to get back into the swing of things. I’ve got two 5Ks next month, one in August, and then September starts the training for the next half marathon. All of which began today with a single jog.