Back on track?

I re-upped my YMCA membership for the winter and took myself to the gym on Monday evening for my first run in more than a month.

Finally.

It was a major production, at least internally, to go through the motions of getting ready to run. I was nervous. I spent more time than usual tying my laces, securing my hair, adjusting my music, and then gingerly, very gingerly, stepped onto the red, squishy surface of the indoor track on the second floor of the Y.

First, though, as I knelt down to retie my shoe again, I sent a little prayer out to the running gods and goddesses. "Please, please let me run today without hurting my body," I pleaded. "I promise I'll never skip a workout again if only I can have running back."

After a hesitant eight minute warm-up, I discovered that I hadn't completely fallen off the wagon and that my knee was not going to give out or start producing jolts of pain. This felt like quite a triumph, considering I was limping around a few weeks ago.

I ran around the track at a super slow pace for about 30 minutes, until my knee started to ache and go wobbly. Then I went downstairs to spin for 20 minutes, hoping to work the kinks out of my muscles while easing up on my knee. 

Tuesday was a repeat of the routine. Wednesday and Thursday were given over to travel, family time, and so much delicious food, as well as RICE. The holiday was a perfect excuse to rest after an exhausting week.

They make you feel faster, and keep fingers warm.

Friday, after I had sat on my parents' huge couch doing absolutely nothing for so long I began to fear it would swallow me up permanently, I hauled myself up and headed to the SUNY Oneonta track nearby. It was about 35 degrees, and since everyone knows that running outside in cold weather is just an excuse to put on all sorts of sleek gear and feel cool, I suited up in mine: leggings, running shorts, long-sleeved wicking shirt, black ear band, black gloves. While they won't make you go any faster, black gloves, by the way, are apparently the epitome of running cool.

Izzy the bundle of fluff and me, her erstwhile friend.

I pulled two good miles on the track, so relieved to be able to move around outside again and take in the view of Oneonta's blue hills and the setting sun. Forgot to take any pictures of that or of Thanksgiving, save for one, as an afterthought, with the family dog.

 It's still technically Thanksgiving week (eh?) so I'll say what I am thankful for: Always, for family, friends, nutritious food and good health. Right now, for being back in Saratoga in my warm, peaceful home, couching it up again after driving straight to the Y from Oneonta for workout No. 4 of the week. And I'm eternally thankful that I can lead an active life.