I Can Has Run?

Not being able to run is driving me insane. Just throwing that out there.

I understand the concept of rest and healing, I really do.

That said my lunarglides are staring at me forlornly, as though I’ve left them to go on some sort of immensely slackified vacation. If they could talk I am certain that the recriminations would be absolutely Hobbesian. My knee-high Nike compression socks, the socks that scream ‘I like to run!’ or ‘I get really cold, even in summer!’ are also muttering under their breath-much like my grandfather does whenever the topic of today’s youth comes up.

Okay, so maybe it’s not as dramatic as all that but it absolutely feels like it.

I refuse to step on the scale. Yeah, yeah, yeah-very girly I know.

Still not gonna happen.

I can only do so many other exercises before I just want to run. I went for a walk yesterday, it was everything I could do not to break into a jog. Ya know, just an easy canter, a lope even.

Then a full out sprint. Running with the wind blowing my hair back, while the music plays and angels sing…

I don’t have that much trouble in the ice cream isle at the grocery. I have no trouble walking past the junk food isles but forcing myself to rest long enough not to re-injure myself: hellish.


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