March 9th, 2010
In recent years I discovered the joy of running. A few kilometres a night, nothing heavy-duty. And the occasional 10K fun run as my ultimate participation in the sport. This is not exactly athletic, mind you ... just a way to feel a bit better and enjoy the feeling of Actually Doing Something instead of just pounding back more potato chips and soda on the couch.
Then, last year came the ultimate in frustration.
I don't want to go into details, but I was laid up more-or-less for a year with a bone problem in my foot. I waited and waited for the problem to heal and an X-ray last November showed that there was improvement. Great, I thought, I can start running again—though, to be careful, not so much as before (just light reps and lots of walking in between). The waiting game was even extended by a couple of weeks while I waited for an interminable cold to go away. Finally, the cold cleared, time in the evenings opened up, and I started to run, albeit lightly.
And you know what? It felt great! I started earlier this year and was really enjoying the time to myself, the road, and the feeling of strength coming back to my legs and lower body. I could also see some improvement in my waistline and in general muscle tone. After a year away I wasn't tearing up the roads and paths, but I was getting some valuable returns for my investment of sweat and effort.
Damn! And then I woke up yesterday with gout pain in my right foot. Different problem; the original bone problem remains healed and strong, but it's been several days and I can't run. I can hardly walk today, in fact, despite my conviction I'd wake up feeling better today. I hate that I was just getting back into my rhythm and now have to wait a week or so until I can restart. I hate losing my wind and needing time to recover from idleness.
Damn.
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