And I raaaaan…

I went for a run yesterday. Yes, I, Jennifer Dietrich, went for an actual run, not one of those namby pamby fake runs where I’m only permitted, per PT instructions, to run for a total of 8 minutes. As I drove away from a tedious week of work, I thought about the consequences of going for a real run. I knew I was breaking the rules, and I knew I would most likely pay for it the following day, but I decided to throw caution to the wind. “Screw it!” I blurted out loud while shaking my fist of defiance. The guy in the turn lane next to me was looked very confused.

watch

shoes + spandex + watch = joy

I walked in the door to my house, dropped my bags, pet the cat, kissed Mark, and immediately headed upstairs. I pulled out my insulated pants and thermal running top. My heart began to flutter with the feeling of the 88% polyester/12% spandex slipping over my arms and legs. I grabbed my knit cap and laced up my barely broken-in running shoes. I set my satellite watch, and I was off! Well, sort of. While I was willing to be a little reckless with my distance/time, I’m not stupid enough to bypass the warmup. Where was I? Oh yes, I was off…to a brisk walk, which I kept up for a little over 7 minutes. At a little over 7, I had reached half a mile and then I knew it was time. I picked up the pace and began to run. Oh, the sheer glory! The pure perfectness of it all! The reckless abandon of the rules! I sucked in the cool air, reveling the feeling in my lungs. I welcomed the sting of the breeze on my face. I looked down at my feet watching each foot hit the asphalt, and not once did I think about foot placement, how hard I was striking the road, or if I could feel my right hip resisting the vibration of each strike.

I ran a total of 2 miles, then cooled off by walking another half. It was the longest consecutive run I’ve put in since the end of July, and it was guiltless, unadulterated fun. I woke up this morning feeling no worse for wear than I normally do, and so I’ve decided that I am going to run whenever I feel like it up until the surgery. I admit that this may not be the most intelligent idea I’ve ever had, but hey, I’ve had worse. Ok, yes, that logic is really flawed, but I’m shooting for reckless and wild here, and in that case there is no room for intelligence. I now have 30 days to run as my old and whole self, and so it shall be done. Huzzah!

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