The Old Heel and Toe

Here's the bench in the park. I usually lie down for crunches / bicycle kicks on the one farthest from the foreground, but in my wild and crazy moments have been known to lie on one other than that. And people think I don't have a life.

I not only have a life, for a couple of days I've had a sore toe. Toe joint, that is. My office mate at work has a stress fracture in her knee (from running! argh!), so of course my thoughts are headed that way for my injury, too. I must remain calm (sound of shallow breathing here). The toe has actually felt better today since I took Z's advice and tried wearing a pair of non-running shoes. I want to take it easy, to stay off it, but don't think I'm capable of it. I'm going to skip my SF run tomorrow--will run on the usual dirt path instead.

The weather here changed from winter to spring virtually overnight, it seems. Pitchers and catchers are warming up in Arizona, and all the little brown birds around our feeder are raising a ruckus even before the sun is up. Count me in favor of both these things!

One of those birds told me my favorite nephew isn't feeling too great. My prescription? Spend as much time as possible outside. Breathe deeply, not the way someone who's afraid she'll never run again might breathe. I am reading Quantum Healing and feeling unreasonably optimistic about the human potential to live in good health. Surely we were created to thrive. How else to explain our miraculous and intricate selves?

Speaking of thriving. Z and I are going out to dinner at our favorite place. That will make this miraculous and intricate (and hungry) being happy as a clam. Are clams happy? Well, you don't hear them complain, do you? Ta-da-bump.