I rose early today to get my run in. The morning was stunning. Wispy clouds floated in front of the eastern pink sky. Camel’s Hump was silhouetted, surrounded by red and orange. Robins sang. A cool wind caressed the new grass. I wore shorts. I stood for a minute before heading out, soaking in the beauty. I live in a fine place.
My ankle was sore today. It was sore yesterday as well but I reckoned it would figure out that an injury was unwelcome if I ignored it long enough. That didn’t work, apparently. Like the house guest that won’t take the hint and keeps sticking around, the soreness persisted. I had to run short again. And slowly. But I got some miles in and marked off day 42 of consecutive days running.
It wasn’t a pain, really. It didn’t ache. It felt like an overuse situation, which is somewhat understandable. Nonetheless, I wish it would disappear. I am hoping it will. In fact, I am confident it will. I have come too far to break the streak now. If I can run 42 days in a row, I can do more. I do tend to be overambitious. Heck, I am already thinking I should go for 1,000 days in a row. But that is ridiculous at this point. Let’s get to 50 days first, then 100. After that, we an talk. This soreness is, as I said, not welcome. It keeps me from dreaming big. It checks me. In some ways that is good, but I like to dream big. Who wants things boring?
Tomorrow I will have to rise early again to fit in a run. If I wait until the afternoon it just won’t happen. If I have to run short, or walk a little to ease the ankle nagging me, I will do that. I am hoping, however, that the healing process will take care of my lower limb and I will be back on the road soreness-free. I hope as well that the morning is a stellar as this one. That will make it worth it no matter what.