I woke up with stiffness, fear I was in for another day of pain and suffering. Awaiting the machine to heal.
I sucked up the day, studied like hell, and hoped tomorrow I would be healed more. So I strapped up the knee, stood my ground to the treadmill for a good 30 minutes. Recovered, did a 15 minute cool-down on the elliptical.
Then a host of over things.
I was feeling decent, so I drove home. And I looked at myself and wondered what would happen if I took a chance climbing a 200 meter hill, to run a dirt loop in circles, so that I could see the city in all its steel glory.
Somewhere, between getting out of the car, and deciding to lift my left foot in that inherently happy motion, I lost care. I lost inhibition. I lost pain.
I was, well, running - Absent a minutiae of pain. I just ran around, came down the same steep hill.
I don’t know. But I swear to God, there is something peculiar about September and then October. I always break down in September, and I always resurrect in October.
But now I face a tremendous challenge. I can choose to recognize what I did today, and then rest HARD until the weekend, with the hopes of resume TRAINING once again.
Someone is happy today.
-When you were young-
