That is what it says on the new tech running shirt I want.
I am so ready to get back to running. I can hardly believe it has been almost 15 months since I have had a good, long run. I know it isn't quite time to try yet, but in my mind I am tapping my foot and tapping my watch impatiently. Now that I have the hope that my heart will fully recover, I am losing patience for that time to get here. Mentally, I am ready.
It isn't that I don't appreciate how far I have come physically over the last year. I do. I remember walking up our half flight of stairs, and sitting down at the top to catch my breath. I remember many conversations when I ended up gasping for breath to finish a thought. I remember just sitting in the van in the driveway, breathless from walking out of the house. I was weak, I was exhausted, I was barely able to function.
I do, of course, also remember the pain of running. A bad running day never totally leaves you. One night over a year ago I set out and by mile two, I knew I was done. I just couldn't go another step. It was crazy, and it was maddening, and it was discouraging. I remember how tired and out of breath I was the first time I finished 5 miles. I remember hitting the driveway after a hard run, and begging my jello legs to make it as far as the front door before giving out. I remember the rain, the snow, the heat.
It is strange that very similar physical symptoms can produce such different responses based on their origin. When I was tired and out of breath from being sick, I felt weak and afraid. When I was tired and out of breath after a run, I felt invincible and fearless.
I am ready to feel invincible and fearless again.
I am so ready to get back to running. I can hardly believe it has been almost 15 months since I have had a good, long run. I know it isn't quite time to try yet, but in my mind I am tapping my foot and tapping my watch impatiently. Now that I have the hope that my heart will fully recover, I am losing patience for that time to get here. Mentally, I am ready.
It isn't that I don't appreciate how far I have come physically over the last year. I do. I remember walking up our half flight of stairs, and sitting down at the top to catch my breath. I remember many conversations when I ended up gasping for breath to finish a thought. I remember just sitting in the van in the driveway, breathless from walking out of the house. I was weak, I was exhausted, I was barely able to function.
I do, of course, also remember the pain of running. A bad running day never totally leaves you. One night over a year ago I set out and by mile two, I knew I was done. I just couldn't go another step. It was crazy, and it was maddening, and it was discouraging. I remember how tired and out of breath I was the first time I finished 5 miles. I remember hitting the driveway after a hard run, and begging my jello legs to make it as far as the front door before giving out. I remember the rain, the snow, the heat.
It is strange that very similar physical symptoms can produce such different responses based on their origin. When I was tired and out of breath from being sick, I felt weak and afraid. When I was tired and out of breath after a run, I felt invincible and fearless.
I am ready to feel invincible and fearless again.
Comments
How wonderful to see the pictures of your beautiful sons, read your words, and learn that you still love Jesus (but that was no surprise to me). :-) By the way, I'm so sorry for the physical issues you've dealt with as a result of the virus that attacked your heart!
Phil and I have fond memories of the time we first met you, Ann. You were one of the speakers at a Winning Women Retreat in Michigan, sometime about 1975 or so, and Phil and I were the musicians for the weekend. (But we loved it when you sang your "little" songs.)
I don't remember the last time we were actually *with* you, but you have remained in our hearts and, of course, our memories all the years since.
God bless you, Ann.
Myrna White