"The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart"- Albert Camus
Slowly but surely, I'm getting myself back on track. Back to running, but more than that, back to loving running. This past weekend proved to be a huge breakthrough in my recovery, the beginning of getting back on my feet if you will.
The Fall....
Let's start with my getting knocked off of my feet first. The initial knocking off came a long time ago. Even before patellofemoral...I think it came at the beginning of IT band syndrome and I never got up.
The literal version of me getting knocked off my feet came this past Friday. That's right. It finally happened. I fell off my bike. I always knew that this day would come, though it wasn't as dramatic as I always pictured it. Looking back, it's actually quite comical. I was on a bike path going quite quickly if I do say so myself. The path was going to cross a track so they made the fence into an 'S' shape so that bikers would slow down and watch for trains. My first mistake was thinking that I might be able to make it without stopping. My second mistake was actually trying it.
Obviously I didn't make it. As I was about to hit the fence I quickly grabbed a pole to stop myself and down I went. My foot got caught in the pedal and in almost movie-like slow motion I just tipped over. I didn't even crash. I just fell. Embarrassment. HUGE embarrassment.I surveyed the damages quickly, a scrape on the inside of my right calf, bleeding slightly and really ugly. Fortunately no one was around so I jumped back on my bike. I told myself that this kind of thing happens to even the bikers in Tour De France, and secretly I wished that my first bike accident came with a better story to go along with my bloody, scratched up leg.
The Rise....
So I get up and get going and finish my 34 mile ride.
The next day I did my longest run since....May? I don't even remember anymore. Armed with a new pair of purple Saucony Kinvaras and a slow-growing confidence level I trotted down the bike path in search of my pace. By the time I got to one of my favorite trails it felt like things were almost back to normal.
The next day, not only did I run 2 days in a row for the first time but also 40 whole minutes. Months ago I would have scoffed at 40 minutes. Today I'm thankful for every step that I got to run during those 40. Isn't it amazing how drastically one little thing can change your perspective?
The pit stop...
One thing in particular shows that everything is headed in a positive direction. Forty minutes is not really that long of a run. But it's long enough. For what? For me to have to stop and pee in the woods during a run. I know that's not really something that I should get excited about but it's my first run in a long time that's even close enough to being long enough to need a pit stop. You see why it was exciting?
Really though, my other pit stop took place on my bike ride this morning. The sun was rising and mist was lifting from the fields as I rode up a hill that I'm still not sure how I got to the top of. Once I got to the top I stopped and marveled at the scenery surrounding me. The miles and miles of green fields filled with life, the bright sun rising to my right, and the ginormous hill that I just made it to the top of. In running, in life there will always be hills, obstacles, and falls. The important part however, is making it though and finding a way to get back up.
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