Running Commentary

The title could refer to this on-the-fly post (except for the "sweet" part, mebbe), but really I am describing the run I went on this morning at 6 a.m. It's no secret to anyone even slightly acquainted with me that I'm very sick of my hip injury, which as a matter of fact is 11 weeks old this very day. I've whined a lot. I have continued to work out in various ways, some of them painful and none of them noticeably effective. So this morning I tried again. I was out on the section of the Ohlone Greenway that runs under the BART tracks for about an hour (rode my bike down there so I could keep my tender self off the pavement). Of that hour, I trotted along for some 26 minutes, meaning that even if I have lost so much speed that I'm only running 13-minute miles, I still ran two miles. And now, at 1:20 in the afternoon, I feel good. As in, I'm pain-free. I know better now than to think I'm fully back, but I am letting myself believe that I'm closer to ...

And a fine one it is. I'm supposed to be proofreading a book on rental forms, but instead have been shuffling around the house, whistling Mozart, watching the A's on TV, making a tunafish sandwich for lunch and sharing it with Danny Mo, the king of all cats. Z has taken a part-time job, which keeps him out of the house Saturday, Sunday, and Monday. It is just about the perfect activity for this rehabilitating period in his life, and we're glad that the opportunity popped up for him when he needed it. But I miss sharing my Sunday with him! Meanwhile, the sliding door in the kitchen is open and a summer breeze is dancing in and out. Summer breeze, makes me feel fine, Blowing through the jasmine of my mind. [Insert a nod of thanks and a smile here for Seals and Croft.] So what have I been doing? Running. Why else would I be so giddy? Believe me when I say I'll never take mobility for granted again. Maybe if I promise that, fate will refrain from throwing me onto the...