Well, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?
I hadn’t really intended to take a break; not from the running and not from the writing. Somehow, I stopped writing, and, unconnectedly, I think, I got hurt and stopped running. Now’s it been about two months. Two months where I have biked, and walked, and pool-ran and elliptical machined and and and. All in an attempt to stay fit for running and try to keep the weight off. I don’t know whether I have succeeded with the former, although I have mostly succeeded with latter. Only mostly. Even though my running is about more than weight loss, that “mostly” kind of hurts. As does my disconnect from running.
I have had a lot of time to think about how much running means to me. All the friends I’ve made, races I’ve run, miles I’ve logged, although it’s much more than any of those things and even than all of those things together. I have to admit that I am a bit scared. Scared of missing the half-marathon in Miami, that I am supposed to run at the end of January in memory of a friend’s daughter. Scared of missing Boston, the marathon I gave my all to reach. Scared that this time my drive and fire and passion and fear won’t be enough. Scared.
The doctor has given permission to try running next Tuesday, a day that can’t arrive fast enough. Let’s get started…. again.