Fun Run

Social media today:

“Rainy day fun run! 1st clocked run in a month! Damn, it was nice to feel my legs again… pulled muscle and injured ankle healing nicely, though still gotta make it through the last stages of healing (which takes every ounce of patience I have! Ha! I wanna #runallthemiles)!

My sister, once again, inspired me. For running and for writing. She fires me up! It’s a cycle we have, and I love it. Years (and years!) ago, I dragged her out in the rain to run with me. Since that moment she was hooked. Throughout our lives, if I didn’t want to go, she would push me. If she didn’t want to go, I would push her. It doesn’t really matter if we live together, or if we are miles apart, lots of times it simply takes a FaceTime call to get the other back up and out the door.

For anyone who has a passion, could be anything – like surfing, or singing, or dancing, if you can’t do it for a month it kills you little on the inside. I have been CRAVING a run, but my ankle just wouldn’t permit it. It’s finally at a point where I can do little test runs. 2 miles here, 3 miles there, then bringing it back and slow down for 2 miles another time.

My mind, desperately wants the push of at least 15 miles. To fill the empty and lost spaces with breath, instead of worry. To focus on the feeling of the effect of the pavement travel from my toes to my head, and nothing else. With every step, everything braces for impact.

BUT (input extreme sad face here), I can’t. Le sigh.

I was almost at a point of giving up and just not run anymore, like ever. I stopped working out, forgot to eat the proper things, and felt like I was starting to lose my footing and slide down that slippery self hate slope.

But then a few things happened. My sister sent me a brand new (used) pair of actual running shoes, (I was running with shitty $15 Walmart sneakers.. probably the case for the ankle injury), she wrote a note saying she didn’t want to whoop my ass when we run a marathon together, so I better get my butt back at it, and someone here offered me a mountain bike to borrow for an afternoon.


I realized that injuries are often included when you push your body, finding its limits. That rest and healing are a huge part of the process. I’m willing to sacrifice some running time to heal, but it doesn’t mean stop and feel sorry for myself. It’s means maybe change it up a bit. Use a bike, do yoga, or even strength training. Build all the muscles, so next time I can really run, I’ll do it with a healed body. I’ll do it with a strong, healed, fighting machine body. Strong, from the inside out.

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