life in bedlam
I ran one (1) mile on Monday. Then I ran one and a half (1.5) miles today. A year ago I would have laughed at the thought. “Why bother to put on your shoes for one measly mile?” I’d probably have said. “Let’s do at least four, should we do 8 or 9 on Sunday?”
But what a difference a year makes. After the aches and pains got to be too much, I tried physical therapy. I was making progress, but not enough to encourage my insurance company to keep funding it. So, I stopped running five months ago. Really, I stopped doing everything that would be considered healthy. If I couldn’t run, I would be miserable, I figured.
Now I’m fat (again) and out of shape (again) and still have the aches and pains.
So, fuck it, I thought. If I’m going to ache, at least I can be fit and confident and happy and strong like I was during the six years before when I finished two full marathons, six or seven half marathons and countless 5ks.
And so it begins with a mile. (Again).