And I've been putting in my gym time. I didn't much want to lift, but after some convincing, I began to like it. I've smiled at how "the people" at the gym have become "my people." But I've still wanted to run. Until today, He-who-trains has had a no running decree--and has made enough (joking?) threats that I didn't push it. I nagged, begged, whined, and made puppy dog eyes, and he finally gave his blessing...er, at least stopped making threats against my well-being.
Of course, he gave specific instructions. One lap walking, one lap running for an hour or until my knee started hurting. Five miles later, I say Boo-yah! It wasn't fast or pretty, but boo-yah nonetheless. I'm not naive enough to believe that I'll suddenly become a runner and have no more problems. I know I'm going to have to take it slow. And ice, lots of ice. And might as well buy stock in glucosamine and advil, but that's ok.
I'm itching to run right now. To be tired in that way, that somehow different from weight-lifting tired. To have the time alone to not think-- because running for me is sort of like playing pool-- it demands enough of me that I can't think about other things. I won't give up my gym time, as I don't want to degrade the muscle I've worked hard to build, but this is a nice addition. I'm pretty sure that my pace tonight disqualifies my time as a "run", but that's ok too. I can start with a jalk.
At the four mile mark, when I was feeling really good, the Indigo Girls came on my ipod. They sang "Closer to Fine", and my head and heart joined them. For tonight, anyway, that's my song.
Kim 1, Knees 0. Booyah!