Today, for the first time in 7 weeks, I ran!
Not Iran, like the country in the Middle East. No. I ran on the treadmill today for the first time in 7 weeks.
I didn’t run far and I didn’t run fast. I alternated running with walking, trying to see where my limits were. I could’ve done more but I wanted to get home and stretch out so I could do more another day. I don’t want to overdo. Been there, done that. I lasted about a half hour and covered 2 miles. I couldn’t stop smiling. I must’ve looked like a dork. Sure, it’s a bit humbling to be back in the gym where I used to rack up the miles on that infamous machine going nowhere. I don’t care. We get hurt and we get back up again. Maybe I can be encouraging to someone else on this journey. Nobody’s perfect. Our bodies will heal, given time and the correct care.
I am on my way back. Yay!
Last night, I dug out my old journals from 2006 on. I won’t bore you with the details, (drama bomb!) but I discovered something. I’m definitely not the person I used to be. One thing stayed the same: my handwriting is still atrocious. Thank God for His faithfulness. I also see that things really started to clear up and make more sense once I started running. Funny. My thinking was messed up. I thought about negative things a majority of the time and so my attitude was poor. I battled depression and discouragement a lot. I still do, but not nearly as much or as badly as in the past. Running has helped to create new ways of thinking.
What did I learn from this time off? Glad you asked. I pretty much laid it all down, whether I’d ever run again or not. I had to or I’d get a little crazy. Not that I didn’t…but it passed. I don’t know if I want to race anymore. I want to run because I like it. It makes me feel alive. I want to work out because it makes me feel better and get stronger. I have nothing to prove anymore, nobody to compete against except myself.