...since I've run 2 miles.
Yes, me, the one who ran a marathon and then wanted to run a million marathons every day, ran 2 miles today, and was OVERJOYED that I could run that far.
It wasn't by choice that I stopped running. I even wrote about my injury here. Little did I know at that time that it would be six months, thousands of dollars and a whole lotta patience later that I would be able to run two consecutive miles without pain.
Over the course of these six months I've wavered between feeling insanely jealous of every person I see running on the side of the road and feeling insanely blessed to have a healthy body that can walk and lift and do every other exercise known to man (except run). I'm reminded how blessed I am every day when I see my coworkers (there are several of them) who have permanent limps. Walking to the cafeteria looks like a struggle for them (I have no idea if it actually is a struggle, but it looks like it is).
I can walk. I can jump, dance, kick, squat, twirl, skip, ski and swim. And I try not to let a day go by that I don't thank God for that.
I do miss my weekend double-digit runs though. I feel weird calling myself a runner these days. I want to register for a race. I want to run with all these new friends I've met on Daily Mile and Twitter. I finally have friends here to run with! But I can't run :(
Well, I couldn't run. Now I can. A little.
I just hope someday I will look back on this as a small blip in a long running career.
