True confessions time. Since the Great Hip Break of 2014 following my first ever run-all-the-way race (in which I placed 2nd for my age group, by the way), I have been terrified to start walking with any real purpose again. In the back of my mind is the thought that there is no way for me to tell if that thing is really all healed up and ready to do its job again without, you know, frickin' splintering right down the middle again.
Once or twice after hitting the date at which my orthopedist advised I'd be able to start a very light exercise program again I've laced up and headed out, but my heart just hasn't been in it. At all. And then that winter weather, and a million other reasons that became excuses that became choices that became lifestyle, and here I continued to sit.
This morning, friends of mine all over the country are running in races, and it is the day of Montgomery's first-ever full marathon. I never aspired to participate in one, even when I was in the best shape, but seeing so many folks I know work so hard to take part made me miss the feeling of beating my most vexacious competitor: my own fine self.
This morning I laced up and went out, and while I set no land speed records, I actually did a couple of very light "shuffle jogs" on the way, neither of which created this in the road, but as far as I can tell, my hip is still in whatever number of pieces it's supposed to be in to work the way it's supposed to.
I don't know if I'll stick with it any better than I have the last several times I went out and came home and swore that I was back in the swing of things, but today felt good, and had its own rewards.
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| Found these fellas in the street on my walk this morning. |
