Over the weekend I was going to try to run a little and see how I felt. The idea was that I was going to go one mile and see, and walk home if I needed to. Well, then the weather was beautiful here. Sunny and hot. Saturday I didn't, but thought I would go on Sunday morning.
Sunday morning was beautiful. It was cool, and the sun was out. I sat outside and listened to the birds and enjoyed my deck. Then I had the great idea of making banana bread with some browning bananas. Our friends from across the street, her mother died last Monday and the funeral was on Saturday. I thought that she would be extremely drained Sunday, so I made banana muffins for them. And then Chris woke up and wanted to get the grocery shopping done. So we did that. Then it was too hot to run. So I didn't.
Yesterday, I sat at work all day thinking about how much I wanted to try running. I decided, no matter the temperature, I would go after work. It was supposed to be cooler than Sunday (it was) and I figured I could suck it up for a mile.
And I did it. I ran one mile, and it didn't bother me at all. I stopped. I assessed whether or not I thought I should go farther or not push my luck. I decided to keep going. I thought that if it started to hurt I'd stop and go home. And by the time I got to mile 2, I wasn't even thinking of my ankle and whether or not it hurt. Because it didn't. Not at all. I forgot about it. Which is exactly what I wanted. I ended up running 3 miles, which was a pipedream when I started.
It's funny, 4 weeks ago I was always fighting in my head about not wanting to run. Now that I have had one good run, I want to go run again. I'm not going to run today, I have a hair appt, which is probably for the best, but I'm excited to run tomorrow.