Taking it back

There is very little in this world that I love more than running. I love The Redhead more, which is a good thing, since I doubt she’d enjoy sitting at home all day while I went running for hours on end, and I know she wouldn’t enjoy running with me that much. But I do love running very much. I really enjoyed those mornings when the sun was coming up across the lake as I ran around the reservoir and the dew on the grass made my ankles wet. I liked to put in 10 miles in before most people were awake. I loved those cool summer mornings with fog drifting across the lake when I’d surprise a blue heron or a bald eagle and they’d lift off and scare the bejeebers out of me. What I liked even more about that time was how in shape I was. I used to say that the run didn’t really begin until after the tenth mile. I was serious, too—I ran between 12 and 16 miles every day of the week except Sunday all summer long, and then did cross country and track during the school year. I never realized it, but I was in great shape. I used to come home from running and turn the sink on full blast and gulp the cold water straight from the faucet. Then I’d have a ¼ gallon of ice cream for breakfast. It probably wasn’t what the FDA recommends, but I thought it was a great way to live.

It’s pretty ironic that something I like so much was basically taken from me. My senior year in high school I developed a chronic hamstring injury that I’ve never entirely been able to overcome. I did physical therapy with those rubber bands, heat pads, ice packs, stretching, anti-inflamatories, and even ultrasound that was supposed to help break down the calcium deposits. The therapy helped, but the problem came back. I took two full years off of running during my mission and I still can’t run like I used to. If I had one wish I might choose to be able to run again. I miss it that badly. But it’s not going to happen. I used to be jealous when Balthazar would go running and stuff and I couldn’t keep up with him. If I did, I’d just be really sore and tight the next day and I couldn’t run again for weeks.

For a long time I gave up running. Unfortunately, along with it I gave up all semblance of physical fitness. So starting this semester I’ve started taking it back. I’m back to running a couple times a week and I’m loving it. The key is to not let myself run too long. Each morning I get up and start running and about ten minutes into the run I feel great. I find my rhythm and my stride and I want to go for hours. But I make myself stop and slow down. I’m more at a waddling penguin pace than a 5-minute mile pace, but I’m willing to make that sacrifice to keep running. Well, maybe it’s really jogging, but the important thing is that I’m back doing something I like. Just in slow motion.