Last night, I went for a two-mile run. It’s been eleven and a half weeks since surgery, and it has felt like a long time since my last run. I put on my Road ID and my Nikes, and headed out the door.
Along the route I saw some familiar sights, like the dog who always lunges at his chain, barking at me. And the driveway where I met Anne.
And there were new things to see, like the dilapidated, abandoned house that is now being remodeled. And the home that used to have two colors of siding (old and new), that now has all new siding. And I saw that the fire station has been painted.
By the end, my knees ached, my ankles were sore, my shins were tight, and my quads burned.
My lungs were sucking in the cool spring air.
And I felt like, finally, I’m back.