I was really nervous for Tuesday to come around. I had an appointment with my physical therapist, who would decide whether my leg was strong enough to run again. I had done all of my exercises religiously over the past two weeks, so a “no” from him wasn’t really an option in my brain. I was so excited that my non-running streak of 77 days could come to an end that I accidentally grabbed two left running shoes and threw them into my bag that morning… luckily I realized my idiocy early enough to stop by my place before heading to my appointment!
My PT really put me through the grind. It was an hour of exercises that got more and more difficult as I went along. I was petrified that I was failing to demonstrate that my leg was fine. I got frustrated at one point but he interrupted me and said that he was purposefully was trying to fatigue my leg so he could make sure it was up for running. Which would have been nice to know from the beginning…
After what I hoped would be a convincing performance, my leg was iced for 12 minutes and I learned that I was indeed cleared to run – YESSSS!
I was so excited, I didn’t even change out of my running clothes when I returned to work. I finished my day in them so I could easily get home, walk the dog, grab my GPS watch and go. And that’s exactly what I did.
It was a perfect evening. Temperatures were in the 40s and the sun was setting. I only run with my iPod perhaps 50% of the time anymore and I decided for this special run I wanted no distractions. I wanted to hear my footsteps and my breath and remember what it is like to be a runner again!
I headed into Piedmont Park. With each step, I felt more like me. Running is truly my happy place. It’s a time when nothing else matters but that moment.
I made sure to take in everything as ran along the path. I probably looked like a big dope smiling and looking around like I’d never been there before. But I didn’t care!
I knew I had to ease into running, so I forbade myself from going more than two miles. This was actually very fitting, since the last run before my diagnosis ended up being that exact distance. However, this run didn’t end in tears after feeling like someone was stabbing me in my tibia with each stride.
It was only two miles, and I am a far cry from where I was in November, when I could go out and run 20. But I don’t care. I’m me again! And I can’t wait to see what I will accomplish this year.
Do you have a recent run that has meant a lot to you? Tell me about it!