So maybe I’m getting back into some sort of routine. I finally got out running today, after nearly three weeks of sitting on my ass. And, to use a grammatical device Brandon has perfected, I will say it was three weeks of sitting on my ass, if by sitting on my ass I mean running around like a chicken with its head cut off. (That’s the same thing, right?)
Also, when I say I went out running, I really mean I went to the indoor track, where 27 laps equals one mile (hey, everything’s cramped in this town, what do you expect?). If I run fast enough, I really do get dizzy, but today was one of those slow, leisurely “remember how you used to do this a long time ago?” kind of runs, so the 54 laps around and around and around and around the basketball court didn’t bother me as much as usual. The important thing is I got out there.
One slow bit at a time, the dream is falling into place. But that, perhaps, is a story for another day. Or several.