I know, most of you are thinking “Whoop-dee-do Mr. Marathon Triathlete.” But you have to realize…I haven’t run a step outside since mid-February. Since the black plague descended upon our home and reduced Carrie and I to miserable coughing Dayquil addicts.
But today, finally, I pulled on my running gear (including a handkerchief in my pocket), and set off for a cautious trial on my short course (basically a two mile loop). I felt like a newborn doe as I started to trot on legs that haven’t run a step outside in 3 weeks. As I trotted along in the sunlight every breath was an adventure – I was just waiting to explode in the all-too-familiar coughing fit. But happily the occasional cough was just occasional.
My legs felt weak, atrophied. But they kept going. My breathing was a little tentative and labored, but not painful. My pace was a little slower than I’d like, but…at least I was running.
When I got home, relieved. I chased a short Robitussin with a short orange juice. I’m not fully better yet.
Tomorrow: 3 miles and maybe a swim.