This morning was my first run in a long time, as my little hamstring-that-could continues to chug its way back towards health more than six months after injury.
You'll recall this wasn't my first first run post-hamstring recovery. I had one before, way back in February. But then I had to quit running again towards the end of May--the injury had been re-aggravated into tendonitis, and my poor little legs just needed a break.
So I took another, longer break this time. I threw myself into my yoga, walked a lot, did some stairs work, rested, and went back to physical therapy.
And little by little, it's getting better. I'm still pretty far off from 100%, but when I reread that entry from February and I compare it to how I felt this morning, I realize: I'm getting there.
A few days ago, I went back to see the doctor. "Can I run again?" I asked him. He suggested I try 15 minutes, to see how things felt.
So this morning, I laced up my sneakers and trotted out. 2.5km. Perhaps the shortest run I've ever clocked. But I felt like I earned every step of it.
It was a beautifully sunny morning along Regent's Canal. I ran my slow 1/4th of a 10k in one direction, and then I turned around and walked back home.
I was smiling every step of the way.