I ran for the first time in a week this weekend — the first couples of times after six solid days of stuffy, sneezy, coughing terribleness. Mayhem, I tell you. Mayhem.
I knew that the first 5-mile morning wouldn’t be easy, but I also wasn’t really willing to ease my way back in. The difference between 3 miles and 5 miles is, in the end, not all that much. My body certainly felt it. I might have even been happy to stop at 3. But 2 extra miles to get me to the mileage I run most mornings of my life isn’t all that much. Mentally, it’s nothing. As for my legs, well, that’s another story.
Of course, the first five steps outside felt magical — like I was running with some sort of moon bounce power in my shoes. The magic didn’t last long though. Within a few blocks, I knew it would be one of those slow and steady gets you home in one piece sort of runs. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
Saturday and Sunday were beautiful. They were by far the nicest mornings all week and probably the only ones truly warm enough to run. 36 degrees and rising Saturday morning, I set off toward the Philadelphia museum of art, taking note of how many people were out and about, of the new Lego exhibit at the Franklin (just blocks from my apartment; the world’s largest Lego art show!) and of how nice and calm the morning in general was. In New York City, I’d have had to weave in and out of pedestrians — tourists and residents alike — making my way to Central Park. In Philadelphia, that just isn’t a thing. It’s easier and more pleasant to just do your thing. To run.
Within 15 minutes, I had made it to the Schuylkill River Trail, the same spot I typically pick up the river on my weekday morning runs. Down past the boat house. To the first bridge. And back home to my apartment, this time taking the Schuylkill path the entire way. River on river on river. Beautiful, but not without its twists and turns.
A twist of the morning? A new pair of Nike leggings I had been dying to try out.
And another one: this note I found in my sneaker as I went to slide my foot in. Noah (my PIC usually on weekend runs) was skiing out west. I couldn’t help but smile every time I thought about the crunch I felt while getting ready. Also, LOL don’t tell anyone. Right.
This coming week is going to be a wild one; I leave for Colorado on Wednesday to go skiing. From there, it’s straight to a conference in Arizona and then, finally, back home by Wednesday. Fingers crossed, I’ll have plenty of time for me.
How do you get back into the swing of things after being sick? Do you jump right back into it,or ease your way back in?