I finally got back to the gym today.
First I had bursitis in my hip. Actually, I still have it, and it's slowly
improving (or I'm just getting more tolerant of the pain), but I'm sick of
waiting for it to heal. It's not going
to heal if it hasn't done so in five months.
Then I got Killer Cold #1, the one with the migraines and sinus
pain. After that, the holidays came and
went along with company and relatives.
Finally, I got Killer Cold #2, which was the
sneezing-sniffling-draining-probably-the-flu head cold that prevented me from
getting any sleep longer than ninety minutes at a time, and this went on for
seven days/nights.
It has been so bad that a co-worker asked me this morning,
"So, are you healthy YET?" I
gave the tentative head nod and assured him that my voice was back, and that's
a major benefit when one is a teacher and talks for a living.
Later on, during an after-school faculty meeting, my phone
started buzzing. It was a message from
my middle child. I have to admit that my
first reaction to my daughter's text ("Y today?") caused me to break
out in hives. Was I ready to go back to the gym?
What about my hip? My head
cold? My exhaustion?
Turns out I was ready.
I ran an entire mile today.
I have never run a mile in my life.
Ever. I did some weight training,
some sit ups, and had enough energy for 5 push-ups - that's all my arms could
manage after it was all said and done. I
know, I know, the mile I ran was on a treadmill, and the grade never
changed. I didn't put it on any fancy
pattern nor special program. I ran a
mile at 4.7 mph. A mile. I ran.
Me. The sprinter who thinks fifty
yards is forty-nine too many. The woman
whose face turned red and whose breathing bordered on asthma when doing warm-up
laps for judo class. It's so huge I have
a hard time even realizing the truth of it:
I ran continuously for an entire mile today.
And I didn't die. I
didn't even hack up a lung par usual. As
a small matter of fact, I feel damn
good. Okay, not damn good, but pretty
good. Okay, not really because the aches
are starting and I worked so hard that I'm dozing off.
But I didn't die.
So it's all good.
