It was a pleasant and relatively humid 60 degrees under mostly overcast skies. My biggest decision before I stepped out was choosing among the somewhat heavy, but stable workhorses, the more lightweight but neutral fawns, or the speedy but less supportive gazelles.
I went with the fawns, simply because I like their colors.
I was a bit anxious, wondering how things would go as I walked up the road. It had been an entire two months since I'd been running. My last run, which had ended with me hobbling home, was back on May 8th, but who's keeping track?
A couple of familiar dogs seemed a bit startled to see me at first, then jumped into action, saying, "Hey, I wondered where you'd gone! Welcome back, now GET AWAY FROM MY FENCE!"
Soon I was off, hopefully looking like I knew what I was doing. Hmmm, things didn't feel too rusty. Most importantly, the foot was agreeable. My next concern was my other running parts that have been collecting dust over the last two months, but they seemed to remember their jobs.
I'd planned to do my 5-mile loop, stopping to walk as needed, but it wasn't all that needed. Granted, I wasn't moving at breakneck speed, but I guess the bicycling and boxing during the running hiatus had kept the lungs up to snuff anyways.
In the end, I was having so much fun I ended up going for 7 miles. Six and a half would probably have been better - the last half mile, things started to complain a little.
But not the foot. It's almost like it had it's own little happy soul (sole?). There's still a tinge of discomfort, of something not quite right in there, but it's much less now and not made any worse from this morning's reunion.
There's comfort in knowing I can run again. I'm a bit more ready for the zombie apocalypse now.