I went for my first run today since I hurt my knee at Oktoberfest - nearly six months ago. I had to pick up a rental car for the weekend and Fiona suggested I run instead of taking the bus. Then Ailbhe chimed in, "Yeah, Dad. You should run. It will be good for you." It felt like an intervention.
I had thought about making a New Year's resolution to run 100 times this year. Luckily, I didn't say it out loud. Nobody knows.
So, I ran 3.5 km. It started with a hill. An uphill.
At first I felt strong. Then I felt fast. Then I felt slow and weak. Once when I stopped for traffic, the driver let me go ahead. Jerk! I ran by a lovely church with a double steeple. I stopped to enjoy the view - and breathe.
99 more runs - 274 more days. Don't tell anyone.